


The Boy in the Rain

by RedLetter121



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Comedy, Drama, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Maybe there'll be Romance, Multi, Other, Slice of Life, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2019-10-23 09:50:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 42,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17681168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedLetter121/pseuds/RedLetter121
Summary: You’re back. You've been gone for two years, and things are the same, but also aren’t. There’s a promise you’re trying to keep, baggage and history you have to process (and maybe get the guts to face), mixed signals you have to decode (provided you even pick them up), old and new feelings tearing you up that you have to decide on, and a boy in the rain.Also available on Twitter and Wattpad!Notes:This is my first time doing this, and I have no idea what I'm doing 😃Story is ongoing. Perspectives may change depending on the needs of the story.Setting is in a fictional town, in a fictional country. You will find American, Korean and Filipino (possibly even European) influences in this place because I am culturally confused. Half jk.I have a couple OCs in this.





	1. CHAPTER 1

**Author's Note:**

> General Notes:
> 
> [Y/N] - means Your Name (like Kimi no na Wa, loljk)  
> [ text ] - I'll use text within brackets to indicate what personal thing to insert here (ex. your full name, etc.)  
> Text messages will be italicized.
> 
> Also, I decided to call Young K "Brian" in this because Young K isn't exactly a name a person would give their kid at birth, lol. I chose it over calling him Younghyun because I felt like it was less to get used to. But in general, I support calling him by his stage name IRL.
> 
> I took the liberty to break (some of?) the Day6 members out a little from their regular tropes. Don't worry, you'll still recognize them~
> 
> This is my first time doing this, and I have no idea what I'm doing 😃  
> Story is ongoing. Perspectives may change depending on the needs of the story.  
> Setting is in a fictional town. You will find American, Korean and Filipino (possibly even European) influences in this place because I am culturally confused. Half jk.  
> I have a couple OCs in this.  
> Also, I may or may not add Chapter Titles - depends what I come up with.  
> Updates will be irregular, 'cause I'm still in school and I'm just doing this because I love writing and Day6.  
> I already have a vague idea for the ending, but comments and suggestions for stuff in between are welcome.

It’s the first day of class. You had just moved back to the town you grew up in after leaving for the whole of middle school because of your dad’s job. Your parents had split and your mom decided it would be best for you to grow up in the same place she did.  “Far away from that good-for-nothing’s relatives,” she had said. You guessed that meant you’d be breaking the promise you made to Brian.

He was crestfallen when you told him. You had grown really close to him since you started middle school.

He hadn’t minded sitting with you at the table even when you knew no one. He had introduced you to anime. You had written songs together. In the middle of last summer, he overheard you humming a new melody alone in the club room while scratching notes into your music sheet. You jumped and hid everything when he accidentally gasped. He chased you around the room, trying to get the music sheet from you. You told him it wasn’t ready. You promised him you’d sing it for him once high school started.

But now it looked like he’d never hear the song about the moment you first saw him and how your days had changed ever since.

“I’ll miss you,” he had said while hugging you, when he was seeing you off. You didn’t want the moment to end. You breathed, forcing out every bit of courage you had. “Hey.”

He pulled away and looked at you straight in the eye, waiting for you to continue. You swallowed and said, “Keep writing songs, okay?” Your smile faltered, but you pursed your lips and nodded, pulling through with your words. “I’ll meet you at the top.”

He smirked and pulled you into the tightest bear hug in the world. “I’ll see you there.”

The car doors click unlocked, and you realize you are back in the present. You turn towards your mom, and her tired eyes smile at you.You half-smile back. The divorce hadn't been easy on anyone, especially not her. You knew she was trying to keep strong for you, but all you wanted to do was take away the pain from her. You were just sixteen, but if the universe would let you take away the weight of even the last two years your mother had to suffer through, if she would just let you, you would.

You lean forward and almost kiss her ear. Both of you chuckle. She pushes back your hair and holds your cheek. “You know those kids. You went to all their birthday parties, and you grew up watching the same cartoons.” She pats your cheek. “We’re just coming back home.”

You bite your lip and nod, repeating, “We’re just coming back home.”

You step out of the car as she wishes you a great first day. Your mom rolls away in her car, and you stand facing the high school building as it gleams in the early morning light.

You don’t know if you believe what you had just echoed from your mom. A lot can change in two years. You know you did.

“[Y/N]!”

You turn to your right. Your face lights up. “Fiona!”

She ambushes you in an embrace, and both of you gush over each other. “I haven’t seen you in forever!” “I missed you so much!” “You have to tell me everything that’s happened!”

While you were still squealing together, from the corner of your eye, you see a boy with short black hair drumming the rails with his forefingers as he runs up the stairs. You’re a little surprised. Fiona notices you’re distracted, and she spins to look in the direction you’re looking in. You wonder aloud, “Is that… Dowoon?”

Fiona looks at you with an eyebrow up. “Yeah…?”

You blink. “He looks so…” You remember helping him tie his shoes back in first grade, and teaching him math in fifth grade. He used to follow you around like a little puppy. “Grown up.”

Fiona makes a face at you, then laughs. You elbow her. “What?”

Fiona stifles her giggles. “You should hear his voice, then. It’s so much deeper now.” She pulls you closer. “And – get this – they say he has killer abs.”

You blush a little, picturing the same kid you had helped with ratios and proportions now having fancy ratios and proportions of his own. You scold your friend, “Fiona!”

She guffaws and skips ahead. “Come on, we’re going to be late for class!”

Still slightly flustered, you trudge forward. Even if you were currently annoyed with Fiona, you loved her, and she knew it. She was taller now, and she wore her sleek blond hair up, instead of down and in knots like she had when you were younger. Her nails were painted, and she wore pink crystal earrings. But… she still snorted when she laughed the same way she always had. You were thankful.


	2. CHAPTER 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein the reader's first few minutes of school already has her deep in the throes of confusion and flusteredness.

When you arrive at the classroom, you freeze at the door. In the front row seat by the window, surrounded by rowdy boys in caps and half-buttoned jerseys, is Sungjin. You feel like you’ve been doused with a flash of cold water.

He begins to turn his head, and you snap to the side, avoiding eye contact. You brush past Fiona, hustling to get to the furthest corner of the room, and hoping he wouldn’t recognize you. Confused, Fiona shuffles over to you. “[Y/N]?” She notices you trying to hide behind your hair. She looks up and scans the room, and then her eyes settle on Sungjin. “Oh,” she mouths, nodding her head. “Right.”

You’re internally screaming. There’s way too much going on, and it’s only the first day. You feel like being swallowed up by the floor when you realize that it’s only the first day of the rest of the school year of being classmates with Sungjin.

All you were thinking of when you heard that you’d be moving back to this town was how you’d have to say goodbye to Brian before… well, before anything could happen. It had escaped your mind that it also meant saying hello again to everything you thought you had left behind.

Sungjin had confessed to you right before you left. He had straight up asked for you to be his girlfriend. You panicked. You didn’t know what to say. You said no. You ran away from the baseball field. You left the next day.

You had tried your best to push the memory out of your mind ever since leaving this town, but now everything was coming back crashing.

At that point, a student in a pale blue cardigan walks into the room. Everyone looks up, and returns to their seats. You pull back, bewildered. Before you can even ask Fiona what everyone’s acting up for, she scuttles to the seat in front of you, since the one on your left is taken. The student goes in front of the teacher’s table and leans back against it, with his arms folded. “Good morning,” he opens, finally speaking. You hadn’t ever seen him before. He’s tall, with blond hair, and glasses. “Mr. Ellis is absent today, so my mom asked me to give you the orientation myself. We don’t need to make this complicated.”

He speaks quickly but clearly, pointedly, running down everything in the manual he has tucked under his arm without opening it once. You watch him more than listen. He looks at the class for the most part, but you notice that his gaze always rests out the window, even if the explanation pouring out of his mouth about school policies and schedules is fluid and thorough. He looked like his mind was elsewhere. He comes to an end, and he pulls his gaze towards the class again. “Questions?”

The class shakes their heads. He nods curtly. “That’s that, then.”

He makes his way to a seat three rows in front of you. Then, like a veil is lifted, the class carries on chattering and bantering like they had before. The boy who had just given the orientation opens his laptop and starts working, locking out the world. You turn to the person next to you. He holds his dark brown-haired head in his hand as he doodles in his notebook. “Hey,” you say. He glances up at you. You continue, “Who was that?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know. I’m sort of new here.”

“Oh cool, I’m sort of new too. I was gone for the whole of middle school, and now I’m back again.”

The guy looks at you curiously, then grins. There was a soft, gentleness to his manner. “I used to study here too, but I moved in fourth grade. I just got back now.”

You smile. He seems kind. “What’s your name, by the way?” You extend your hand for him to shake. “I’m [Y/N].”

“Ah, we were in choir together!” He clasps your hand with both of his, his eyes glowing. His face brightens, and you can see the fullness of his smile. His hands are surprisingly soft. “I’m Wonpil!”

You suddenly recognize him. He was the boy from choir.

There was a boy in choir who wasn’t like all the other boys there. The other boys practically shouted when singing, and when they weren’t being tone deaf, they were roughhousing each other. But there was a boy who kept to himself, drawing or just watching people. And when he sang… it made everyone listen.

As if on cue, Wonpil suddenly breaks out singing the song from the choir’s winter special a few years back.

_Just like your love_  
_That loves me_  
_Just the way I am_  
_Just the way you are_  
_I’ll hold you_  
_I’ll accept you_  
_I’ll try_

You had always listened intently, whenever he sang. As a kid, singing had been more about fun and learning new songs. But this boy from choir – when the spotlight was on him, when all the rest of the world was stilled by the melody flowing from his lips, when you forgot you were standing next to him on stage and became one of the audience in your awe of him – he made you realize what makes music art. You couldn’t forget a voice like that. And after all these years, he hadn’t lost that shimmering purity when he sang. Your heart skips a beat.

Wonpil finishes the chorus and giggles. He pulls back his hands and tucks them between his knees shyly, and it’s then that you realize that he had been holding your hand the entire time. “Man, that really brings back memories.”

“Y-yeah, it really does,” you stammer. The bell rings before you can even process what to say next. Wonpil starts putting away his things. “I guess I’ll see you around, then, [Y/N].”

“See you!” you parrot reflexively. He waves goodbye to you and beelines for the door. You stare ahead, needing to recover from the first few minutes of school before you start heading to your next class. He remembered you. How did he remember you?

“Sungjin!” you hear someone call. Oh, crap, you think. You pack your bag hurriedly and leave the classroom while there was still a big enough crowd to hide in. Fiona tails after you.

Why did coming back home feel like sailing into wild open sea?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> English translation of I'll Try by Day6 lifted from: https://lyricstranslate.com/en/ill-try-%EB%85%B8%EB%A0%A5%ED%95%B4%EB%B3%BC%EA%B2%8C%EC%9A%94-i%E2%80%99ll-try.html


	3. CHAPTER 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein the reader learns the name of the boy in the blue cardigan.

You have successfully made it to lunch break. Your teachers so far have been nice, which is such saving grace because you do _not_ know how you were supposed to survive high school if you had to worry about terror teachers, too. You juggle finding the cafeteria with reading through Brian’s onslaught of text messages.

_Good luck on the first day of school!_

_Oh God, assembly is so boring_

_DUDE I AM CLASSMATES WITH JEROME. HOW THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO SURVIVE_

_My math teacher is kind of cute. She was talking about some kind of Math Olympics later this year. Maybe I should join…?_

_Ugh, [Y/N], I wish I was spending my first day with you_

A warm smile creeps on your lips, and you reply to each message.

_Thanks! Although so far, it’s been crazy._

_And you’ve never had any trouble sleeping through things like that, huh?_

_HAHAHAHAHA THIS IS THE UNIVERSE PUNISHING YOU FOR BEING SO ANNOYING jkjkjk_

_Yeah dude, go for it!!!_

_I wish I was spending my first day with you, too. Can we have a video call later? There’s so much I need to tell you about. Hope you enjoy the rest of the day._

Just as you hit send, you bump into the person in front of you. “Oh, sorry!”

You take a step back and your eyes focus on the same boy from earlier, the one who had given the orientation. The force of your impact spilled the strawberry drink he was carrying. He looks obviously pissed, but he says, “No worries.”

You’re incredibly flustered. “Oh my God, I’m going to buy you a new one, I’m so sorry!”

His eyes grow wide. “Oh no, you don’t need to worry about that.”

“Oh gosh, what a mess.” You pull out some tissues from your bag and start wiping up the mess on the cafeteria floor. He kneels down beside you and pulls out a couple tissues from his own bag, and helps you clean the mess up. While cleaning, you repeat, “Really, this is so embarrassing. I’m totally going to buy you a new one!”

He shakes his head, “You _really_ don’t need to do that.”

You look at him. He isn’t looking at you. Instead, he’s gathering all the tissue together to throw them away. He stands up and throws everything in a nearby trashcan and starts walking to his table. You stand up and watch him sit alone. Fiona finally finds you. “Hey, [Y/N]! How has the first day of class been so far?”

“It’s been mad, but I’m still alive. Hey, can you tell me who that guy is?” You motion towards the boy in the blue cardigan, sitting alone.

“Oh, him? That’s Jae. He’s the principal’s son. Everyone here knows him. He moved here when you left.”

You nod, still watching him. He sat with perfect posture, and ate cleanly, with etiquette your mom could only dream for you to have. “If everyone knows him, why does he sit alone?”

Fiona shrugs. “People don’t really… mess with Jae. The girls were crazy over him for a time, and in a way, they still are – I mean, just look at him, he looks like a fairy. He’s the smartest kid in class, and I’m pretty sure his mom is going to make him run for student council president next year or something, even if he’d only be a sophomore then. He’s great on all fronts, really. Just… no fun.”

Your face scrunches, and the two of you start finding a table. “I don’t believe that. And wait, so people avoid him just because he isn’t, what, _entertaining_?”

Fiona shakes her head. “It’s not exactly like that. I mean, a lot of people think he’s interesting. I guess he just likes keeping his distance.”

“That’s ridiculous. He does have some friends, right?”

“Yeah, he does. Wait for it.” You sit down at a table where you have a vantage point of Jae. Just then, a girl with long black hair walks up to Jae’s table and sits across him. She has lunch with her, and she hands him a bag of cookies. He thanks her, opens the bag and motions for her to eat with him. She thanks him back and starts talking animatedly. Jae nods along.

“Is that his girlfriend?” you ask.

“No, but everyone knows how crazy Jasmine is over Jae. Jae’s the type of person who keeps people at arm’s length, and Jasmine’s quite possessive, so that generally keeps people away.”

You nod. Fiona jests, her lips curling into a cat-like grin, “You’re asking an awful lot of questions about him, [Y/N]. Are you interested?”

You scoff as you bring out your packed lunch. “No way, Fi. I just wanted to know why a student would give us the homeroom orientation.”

Fiona chuckles as the two of you start eating. “Okaaay, but you’ve been asking about boys since this morning. I thought you only had eyes for Brian.”

You blush and shush her. She only laughs louder. “Come _on_ , [Y/N]. No one knows him here.” She leans forward. “What happened to the song you were going to show him?”

You frown and cast your eyes down. “I left before I could show it to him.”

Fiona becomes a little more somber. “Oh, I see,” she pauses, then ventures, “But you’ll still show it to him, right?”

You sigh. You want to. With all your heart, you want to. You murmur, “The distance complicated things.”

Fiona nods and doesn’t pry further. When you look up from your meal, you notice from the corner of your eye that Jae had turned toward the window again. He’s still talking with Jasmine – and though he’s listening enough to give replies that encourage her to keep going, his gaze is far, far away.

Your phone pings. The screen glows to reveal a message from Brian.

_Dude, I had a video call with you calendared for today ever since you told me when your first day would be LOL. I’ll ring you up at 8 p.m._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why yes, yes I am messing with the standard Day6 tropes.


	4. CHAPTER 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am drum.

You got into your lab class a little early. It’s your last class of the day, and you can’t wait to go home. While you exchange messages with Brian, someone cozies into the seat on your right. You look up. It’s Dowoon. You lose your breath for a second, stunned, seeing him up close. He smiles at you. “[Your full name],” he enunciates each syllable of your name, amazed. Fiona was right. Your ears sink into the depth of his voice. “Wow. I knew I recognized you.”

Your face scrunches, but you smirk. “Honestly, I almost didn’t recognize _you_ , Dowoon.”

He smiles shyly, flattered that you remember him. You remember how his ears would always turn red every time people would give him attention. “Well… how have you been? I had no idea you’d be back here.”

You bite your lip. You still hadn’t decided how you were supposed to answer how you’ve been. Your parents had just gotten divorced. You were separated from the best friend you had caught feelings for. The first day of school had been a whirlwind. You force a chuckle. “What can I say? It’s been crazy.”

He looks at you seriously for a moment, and for a second you ask yourself if maybe he’s a lot more perceptive now than he used to be. Suddenly his smile brightens. “We have to catch up soon! Are you doing anything later?”

You’re caught a little off guard, but when you think about it, it makes sense. When you were younger, Dowoon had always tagged along with you. During lunch breaks, whenever he could sit beside you in class or at school events, or on the way home. He was mostly quiet, and a little helpless. The two of you never really talked or opened up to each other but being around him had brought out the motherly side of you. You were fond of him. In a way, you supposed that hadn’t changed.

“I guess I’m free until 7 p.m.,” you say.

He smiles sunnily. “Awesome! There’s an ice cream parlor that opened near the school after you left. Wanna check it out?”

You chuckle, his puppy-like excitement infecting you. “That sounds great!”

The teacher soon enters, and later explains that you have to choose lab partners. Dowoon glances at you. You grin, interpreting the hesitant hope in his eyes. “Yes, I’ll be lab partners with you, Dowoon.”

He glows at your response, and you realize how much you missed him. As the teacher passes out a quick exercise to the lab partners to help familiarize you with chemistry and you begin to work it out with Dowoon, you realize that you feel thankful towards him. He was familiar, like Fiona, and that felt like a harbor in the midst of all these torrential events. You finally feel yourself winding down a little. Maybe lab and ice cream at the end of the day was all you needed to get back into the right headspace.

When class ends, you and Dowoon start heading towards the school’s exit. “Let me just text Fiona,” you say, remembering that she would probably be looking for you after classes.

“Oh, will you invite her?” Dowoon asks.

Oh right. You had almost forgotten that whenever Dowoon hung around you, Fiona had almost always been there. The two of you were basically attached at the hip, after all. Wouldn’t it be natural for you to have her around? “I guess I should, shouldn’t I?”

Dowoon looks to the side. “Uh yeah, sure, whatever.”

You raise your eyebrow, sensing some level of discomfort from him. What was up with that? But you also didn’t want to make him hangout with Fiona if he didn’t want to. Did something happen between them while you were gone? You look down at your phone, then finally decide on a message for Fiona.

_Hey, I’ll be going ahead. Catch you tomorrow, okay?_

You and Fiona hadn’t agreed on doing anything after classes, anyway. You look up at Dowoon and shrug. “Maybe the three of us can hang out some other time.”

He shrugs back and chuckles. “Ah yeah, maybe some other time.”

“Great!”

“Haha, yeah.”

The two of you then walk in awkward silence all the way out the school. This was… weird. You didn’t get why it was weird, but it was. You tried recalling the times you and Dowoon had been alone together in the past. It hadn’t been weird then. Why did something feel off this time around? You glance at him while the two of you walked down the street. Why would things be weird? This is Dowoon we’re talking about!

It wasn’t a fussy thing before. He had always just been there, and you had always been comfortable around him. Well, it’s not like you were uncomfortable now… it was just –

“So!” you exclaim suddenly, trying to break the tension. He seems a little startled. Darn, you must’ve said that a little too loud. “Uh… so what’ve you been up to lately?”

He pauses thoughtfully for a second. “Well… I started learning how to play the drums.”

“Wow, that’s great! When did you start?”

“Seventh grade. There was a fair where the high school bands came to perform, and there was someone playing the drums,” he started drumming the air, like it was second nature, “and he just blew me away. I thought, ‘hey, I want to be cool like that.’”

“That’s so cute!” You gush. “Are you in a band now?”

He shakes his head. “Nah.”

You tilt your head. “Why not?”

He shrugs. “I haven’t really thought about it, and no one’s approached me about it before.”

“I see…”

The conversation stalls for a while, and you wonder if things are going to be uncomfortably quiet again. Then Dowoon adds, “But I love playing the drum. It’s something very precise, and in a way, it’s the drummer that leads the other instruments in a song, you know? So I have to be very careful with how I play, especially if I’m going to be playing with others. I’m going to keep on working harder until I can present something worthy to everyone.”

You had never heard him speak about something he loved at length before. He had always been so quiet. You grin. “This must be such a big part of you now, isn’t it?”

He beats his chest dramatically. “I am drum.”

You laugh and playfully thrum your forefingers on his shoulder. He starts to imitate the sound of a tom-tom and caps it off with a rhythmic trill. You laugh a little harder, and then you start strumming an air guitar, a little slowly at first. “Did you know I play the guitar?”

“Yeah, I saw some of the covers you posted on YouTube!” he says between breaths of clicking his tongue to a beat. He begins hitting the air with imaginary sticks.

You gasp but proceed to mimic the melody of an electric guitar, layering it over Dowoon’s beat. “Oh my God, you saw that?”

“Hell yeah. I especially liked the cover you did of How Deep Is Your Love.” At this point, the two of you are in sync and a full vocal instrument jam session has ensued.

“I’d love to hear you sing that,” you comment, matching the pace that Dowoon’s setting. The pace is fast, and the excitement rises as it reaches the pre-chorus.

“Except I don’t sing,” he says. The chorus is about to break.

“Don’t be ridiculous, everyone sings,” You say. The chorus drops and you both quit walking to play your invisible instruments while jumping around in your sneakers. “Hey!” you call out, cued by the music. Dowoon glances over you and smiles, and then joins you at the next best measure. “Hey!”

The chorus climaxes, and the two of you have been completely possessed by the song in the middle of the sidewalk. At the end of it, the two of you practically drop into each other. You’re both laughing and gasping for air, leaning against each other and almost falling on top of each other from exertion. You grab unto his arm, steadying yourself. “See? You sang.”

He makes a face and supports you. “That’s not singing.”

You pat his arm, pulling away. “Backing vocals are a start.” You’ve started to catch your breath. Oh God, it felt good to just let it out again. You hadn’t been able to do anything like that since your parents split. You turn to him. “What should we call that?”

“A pathetic attempt at singing?”

“No, the _song_ , dummy.”

He looks at you pensively for a moment, then smiles. “‘If We Meet Again.’”

A smile cracks unto your face, and you nod. Time and distance had done its work – both of you had grown a little different, and you weren’t used to him anymore. And sure, your circumstances right now are difficult. But to meet again like this – walking in the same streets the two of you had grown up in, making a song on the spot as if the two of you had been learning how to play alongside each other, as if you were never apart; this was something worth treasuring. He jogs a bit ahead and opens the door for you at the ice cream parlor, and adds, “then let’s eat ice cream together!”


	5. CHAPTER 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The memories that come back to you when you're alone with your thoughts.

Ice cream with Dowoon had been great. He wanted something refreshing, so he got a couple scoops of lemon-flavored ice cream, and you decided to have a blueberry parfait. Though he was more talkative now than he used to be, he still let you do most of the talking. You told him about most things, and yet… you couldn’t bring yourself to really talk about the divorce. Or Brian, either. You supposed that you just wanted your time with Dowoon to be happy. He was ecstatic to meet you again. You didn’t want your sob stories to dampen his spirits. Besides, you needed that kind of healing energy after everything you had been through. He was just such an endearingly dorky weirdo, and it made you laugh so much.

But the moment you part ways with Dowoon, the warmth you had felt goes out like candlelight in icy wind. You frown. Technically, everything should be fine. Your day went great – you reconnected with _three_ people today: Fiona, Dowoon, and Wonpil. Despite the minor run ins with Sungjin and Jae, you should feel ecstatic. But you weren’t. As you trod home, suddenly you wish that Dowoon had offered to walk you. Being alone had gotten harder ever since the divorce.

You are an only child. Your mom would’ve wanted another child to follow after you, but your dad was cautious about expenses. And though there is merit to prudence, your father had always been too tightfisted with money, and it had caused your parents to argue a lot. It was rocky but bearable, but then you moved to Toronto for your dad’s work at his family’s company.

Your mom hadn’t wanted to leave her hometown, but she agreed to move for the sake of the family. But adjusting to how things were in Toronto was difficult – the way of life was just different, and there really just was nothing like home. As a family, you tried to make your new life warm in that cold city. Well, as a family except your father.

He was home less and less. Your mother had started to feel neglected, and you felt it when hearty meals turned into uninspired microwaveables, and then when there were never any flowers on the dining table. The house started feeling heavy.

When your dad _was_ around, one way or another your parents would end up fighting. He said he was stressed, why couldn’t she understand that? Well, she said he was numb and narcissistic – why couldn’t he see that? You tried not to think about any of it – push it all away. You were at Brian’s house a lot.

Then one night, after pouring your heart into the song you had been writing since the start of summer, you came home. You saw something no child should have to see.

You still remember telling Brian. When you told him, his face had gone white. He scooped you up in an embrace, and his breathing shivered. You cried into his hoodie.

Your mother filed for a divorce. You found out that you’d move back to your hometown a little over a month later.

Everything was still fresh in your mind. And when you were alone, all of it would replay in your head all over again.

“Hello?” Brian picks up the phone. His voice sounds groggy.

“Hey. Sorry, were you napping?” You’re apologetic, but there’s relief in your voice. It was still a little over an hour before the time you two had agreed to call, but you just couldn’t afford to be alone with your thoughts again.

You can hear him righting himself in his bed. “Y-Yeah, but it’s no big deal.” He pauses. “Is everything alright?”

A small grin breaks on your face. He always notices everything. “It’s fine, I… just missed you, that’s all.”

You can almost see his brow furrowing from the other side of the line. You request, “Tell me about your day.”

He still seems concerned, but he obliges. He talks about his day at length, although you already know about some of it since the two of you had been texting throughout the day. When he finishes, he asks you, “What about you, how was your day?”

By this time, you had recovered enough to answer him properly. You tell him about everything – the teachers, the school, Fiona. You even tell him about Dowoon, Wonpil, and Sungjin.

“You’re in the same class as Sungjin?! Oh shiiiii–”

You huff impatiently. “Yes, and look, I don’t want to make a big deal out of this–”

“But you _are_ making a big deal out of this.”

“–but every time I see him I just clamp up–”

“And you want to disappear.”

“–and I want to disappear, and oh my God, Brian, I have NO IDEA WHAT TO DO,” you whine as you pull out the keys to your front door. You can hear him laughing on the other end. You scold him, “Brian, _please_ , I’m _serious._ ”

“I know you are,” Brian slows down to a chuckle. “[Y/N], seriously, you need to talk to him.”

“ _But what if he hates me._ ”

“[Y/N], this happened in sixth grade. Who cares what the hell happened in sixth grade?”

You sigh, climbing up to your room. “It’s not that simple.”

“[Y/N], it was in the past. You can let it go.”

You stop halfway up the stairs. “Is it that easy for you?”

The other side went quiet. “What?”

“… Never mind. I’m home now.” You start going up the stairs again.

“Oh great, we can switch to video call–”

“I feel tired. I think I’ll take a nap,” you cut him off.

“Wait, [Y/N] –”

“See you, Brian,” you say a little sharply, shutting him up. You regret it immediately. “I’m sorry.”

You hang up and crash into your bed.

When you wake up, it’s already morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You've... just got a lot going on.


	6. CHAPTER 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clubs.
> 
> But like, the high school kind, guys.

You dress nice today. When you woke up today and looked in the mirror, you felt like crap. So you did something about it.

You walk into the classroom, and at that moment, Park Sungjin looks up. If he had been blissfully ignorant of your existence before, there was no way he’d miss you this time around. You make eye contact. You blush profusely. His eyes widen.

You almost run to your seat, and the bell rings. He’s still looking at you even as the teacher enters the room. You do your best to avert your eyes.

Fiona, who is already sitting in front of you, looks over her shoulder. “You look nice today.” She giggles, “Maybe a little too much blush though?” Just when you thought you couldn’t get any redder, you do. She quickly pats your hand, still smiling. “I’m teasing. And don’t worry about it. You look great.”

Fiona turns around and the teacher starts to introduce himself and apologize for not being around the day before. At that point, your homeroom teacher announces, “The school also has several clubs that you might be interested in joining. We have a drama club, a math club, a history club, a literature club…” The list went on. “Finally, we also have a music club.”

You lift your head when you hear that. A music club. It was through music club that you had met Brian. 

 

At first, you just joined because the school didn’t have a choir. They gave you a tenor saxophone, which you were completely unfamiliar with. The first session was hell, and you thought about maybe switching clubs. While everyone was packing up, the other kid assigned to tenor sax approached you.

“Pucker up your lips like this,” he had said demonstrating something a little... unique compared to how the club adviser had shown you. “It’ll help.”

“Like this?” You attempted to imitate his face. He plunged toward you, and you yelped, thinking he might plant a kiss on you. He laughed, clutching his stomach. You realized he was messing with you. You glared at him. “Oh my God, you’re such a creep!”

His laugh tempered down, but he still had a huge smile on his face. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist. You looked like you were begging to be kissed.” He extended his hand, “I’m Brian, by the way. You’re new here, right?”

You looked at him skeptically. “I’m not touching you, after that.”

He rolled his eyes and smirked. “Seriously though, let me help you.”

You were suspicious, but he picked up his trumpet and started getting technical. As he ran down the specifics about how you should press down the keys and how you should breathe, you slowly started believing he genuinely wanted to help. When you were able to play two verses decently, he praised you. “See! That was fantastic! You’ll be able to play the rest in no time.”

“I guess,” you chuckle.

“Anyway, I guess that’s all for today. I’ll see you tomorrow!” He started turning to leave. You stopped him, “Hey, Brian, wait.”

“What?”

You stretched your hand out. “The name’s [Y/N]. I guess you’re not such a creep after all.”

The smile on his face shined. He took your hand and shook it. “I knew we’d get along. Wanna have lunch with me in the cafeteria tomorrow?”

 

You catch yourself smiling at the memory of how you had first met Brian. You hadn’t checked your phone since last night. You already knew what awaited you – there was bound to be some kind of apology message from Brian, accompanied by some questions about what the matter was and what you might have meant. You probably should reply to him, or call him. Just explain yourself. It’s just… you didn’t really even fully understand what came over you. Well, you had a hunch. But the morning rush was no time for contemplation.

Suddenly, Jae’s hand goes up. “Yes, Jae?” Mr. Ellis calls on him.

“Is there a debate club?”

“No, I’m afraid not.”

“In that case, I’d like to start one. I’ve read the school policies, and there was a section that allowed students to establish a club provided that the student activities coordinator approves their proposal.”

Mr. Ellis smiles at Jae, impressed. “Yes, that would be correct. But their approval of the proposal is also contingent on the number of students you manage to list as potential recruits.”

“And how many do you need?”

“We usually go with a minimum of five.”

“Noted. Thank you.”

Mr. Ellis turns to the rest of the class, “Any other questions? No? Alright, the recruitment period is until the end of the month. Sign up sheets will be on the bulletin boards around the school. Some upperclassmen might also be going around recruiting. As for Jae or anyone else interested in setting up their own clubs, you can talk to me before heading to your next class. I’ll see you guys tomorrow!”

Everyone starts to head out. Wonpil pokes you. “Hey. Do you want to join the music club with me?”

You nod enthusiastically, “Yeah, I was thinking of the same thing.”

He claps his hands together. “Great! This is going to be so fun!” He looks at you brightly. “You know, I’m thankful that we ended up being seatmates. I was scared I wouldn’t recognize anyone and that I’d have to make friends from scratch.”

“Haha yeah, I’m happy we ran into each other again.”

He quickly leans in towards you and whispers, “You wore a white dress like that when we first met, you know?”

You blush and Wonpil skitters away, giggling like a kid who had just told someone a secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this might be one of the lesser known Brian facts, but if my memory doesn't fail me, Brian met Terry in music class, and both of them were playing trumpets (or some other kind of brass instrument lol sorry, I don't have the reference with me atm). It was how the two of them bonded with each other.
> 
> Also, I'm not sure if any of you noticed, but in the first chapter, the line that [Y/N] says when she says goodbye to Brian, "I'll meet you at the top," is actually a quote from Terry, when he said goodbye to Brian.
> 
> ... I was going for authenticity, but now I realize how that might have made things a little... weird. HAHAHAHA


	7. CHAPTER 7

At lunch, Fiona slides into the seat next to you and inquires, “So cutie, who are we dressed up for today?”

You scoff, “I can dress for myself, thank you very much.”

She raises an eyebrow. “And where’d you run off to yesterday?”

Oh right, you hadn’t told her yet. And after your conversation with Brian, you had been too exhausted to really think about how to bring the topic up with Fiona. But she had been one of your closest friends ever since elementary, surely you should tell her. I mean she was Dowoon’s friend too – or at least, used to be. You’d just have to find out how things stand. You decide to play it cool. “Dowoon and I went out for ice cream. Would’ve wanted to bring you along, actually.”

Fiona wriggles both of her eyebrows this time. ”My, my, you move fast, dear.”

You roll your eyes, but internally, you’re relieved. She was acting normal. Perhaps you were just being paranoid yesterday. “Oh my God, Fiona, it’s not like that. Dowoon’s, like, a little brother to me.”

Fiona’s eyes flit up, and then she grins from ear to ear. She makes a small wave. “Hey there, Dowoon!”

You spin in your seat. Dowoon was standing right behind you, carrying his food tray. “Hey, Fiona.”

“H-Hey,” you mumble, caught a little off guard. He nods towards you. Fiona invites him, “Wanna sit with us?”

Dowoon sits beside you. Fiona has a mischievous grin on her face, and you feel like you’ve just entered a danger zone. Fiona is fully aware of how flustered you feel, and she looks absolutely determined to take it a step further. “So Dowoon, [Y/N] tells me the two of you went out for ice cream yesterday. How was it?”

“I had lemon ice cream, she had a blueberry parfait. It was nice,” he says plainly.

“Uh-huhhh,” Fiona says, egging for more. “Did you do anything else?”

He paused thoughtfully. “We made a song together on the way to the ice cream parlor.”

You smiled a little, somehow relaxing a little when he mentions that. Fiona then becomes genuinely curious and drops the teasing tone. “That sounds great! What did the song go like?”

Dowoon attempts to hum an approximation of the melody. It sounds a little awkward, but it’s recognizable. You nod, “You’ve still got it! I really have to hear you sing, Dowoon.” You turn to Fiona. “I’m trying to get him to sing, but he’s being shy about it.”

Dowoon shakes his head hard, and his ears turn bright red. Fiona encourages him kindly, “I’d love to hear you sing, Dowoon!”

You suddenly have an idea. “Hey Dowoon, what do you think about joining us in music club?”

He hides his face. “Noooo you’re just going to try to make me sing when I get there.” He turns to Fiona and pretends to cry. “She’s always bullying me.”

Your jaw drops and you and Fiona are laughing. “What is this kid even saying?!”

Dowoon proceeds to fake cry. Fiona, still laughing, pats his back. “Aww, why do you always have to be so mean to boys, [Y/N]?”

You hold your head in both hands. “The fact that I’m somehow the villain here is giving me a headache.” You glance up at Dowoon. “But joking aside, Dowoon, how about it? You play the drums already, and it would be a nice place to show your skills. I promise I won’t make you sing.” You smirk. “Well, at least not until you’re more comfortable.”

Dowoon pouts, but you can tell he’s already thinking about it. “Who else is going to be there?” He looks at Fiona. Fiona waves it off and shakes her head. “Ho ho, I have more than enough to deal with in the drama club.” She bats her eyes. “I plan to be the star of this year’s musical.”

You raise your eyebrow. “You sing?”

She scrunches her nose at you. “Oh, you of little faith. I may not be naturally talented, but I’ve been practicing.” She turns to Dowoon, nodding, “And that’s why I know you’ll be able to sing.”

He shrugs. At that moment, someone taps your shoulder. You turn and find yourself facing Wonpil. “Hi! Can I sit with you guys?”

“Yeah sure! You sit behind me in homeroom, don’t you?” Fiona exclaims. “I’m Fiona, and this is Dowoon. And I guess you’ve already met [Y/N].”

“Haha yeah, I invited her to join me in music club. I’m Wonpil. It’s nice to meet you all. Do you guys want to join the music club too?” he speaks so cheerily, it was like there was a balloon of light tied around his pinky finger, following him wherever he went.

“Well, we’re trying to get Dowoon to join, but he hasn’t made up his mind about it yet,” you inform him.

“Oh? And why’s that?” Wonpil’s eyes grow big with curiosity.

Dowoon’s ears turn red again, a little overwhelmed by the newcomer. Wonpil suddenly gets a little flustered. “Sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to make you mad or anything!”

Dowoon gulps, “N-No, don’t worry about it, you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just a shy, shy boy, that’s all.”

“Are you sure? Really, if I do anything that upsets you, you can just tell me,” Wonpil is still so concerned.

“Yeah, everything’s good,” Dowoon assures him. Wonpil sits beside Dowoon. “So we can be friends, right?”

Dowoon nods, and Wonpil suddenly wraps him in a hug. “Yaaay!”

You and Fiona chuckle. You weren’t sure when you last someone so affectionate. “So Dowoon, now that we’re friends, you’ll join the music club, right?”

Dowoon nods. Your eyes almost jump out of their sockets. “What! But you wouldn’t say yes when it was me asking.”

Dowoon pats Wonpil’s arm, which is still around him. “Yes, but Wonpil’s nice.”

“I can’t believe this,” you say, but you’re laughing. The four of you spend the rest of your lunch break messing with each other, and you feel yourself loosening up. You wonder if maybe high school here wouldn’t be so bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something lighthearted for the sake of our reader 😁


	8. CHAPTER 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reasons why it's not that simple.

Dowoon had offered to walk you home after lab, but you politely declined. You wanted to be able to sift through a few things before talking with Brian, which you knew you’d have to do at some point before the night was over. He hadn’t done anything wrong, and you hated to think you might be causing him anxiety by delaying a proper explanation. You were just struggling to make sense of everything and come up with an explanation, even to yourself.

You walk home with your head down, deep in thought.

_“[Y/N], it was in the past. You can let it go.”_

His words had struck like lightning, for some reason. As if the past was easy, as if the past had nothing to do with what was going on in your life. As if nothing mattered, _anyway._ As if everything was a clean slate. As if nothing carried over. As if things had no permanence. As if passing days erased mistakes.

As if time undid wrongs.

And the greatest irony of it all was that, in this little town encrusted in flash-blown photos in baby books and yellowing grade school art projects, you were reliving the past. It was eating you whole and choking you out. It was like you had awoken to a recurring dream.

Suddenly a hand grabs you, and the winds slaps your face as a beeping car whizzes past. You snap to attention, stunned. You realize you’re at a crossroad. The light is red. You blink several times, immediately aware of your racing heart.

“… [Y/N]?”

You freeze. The voice is concerned, but you’re the least bit comforted. This was the last thing you needed right now. You face the source.

His face mirrors your own shock. You think you might faint. You catch the light turning green from the corner of your eye. “… I’m sorry,” you squeak, yanking your wrist away from him and scrambling for the other side of the road.

“Hey, wait!”

Oh God, why is he following you?

Your frantic pace increases, and you’re booking it home as fast as your nervous legs can carry you. Not today, not today, not today. But of course the baseball player would outrun you. He swerves in front of you, and you halt in your tracks, almost bumping into him. You take a deep breath and try to move to the side. He sidesteps to block you. You try the opposite side, but he walls it off again. You gulp and finally look up at him. Your heart is practically in your throat. Your mouth is dry. You just might cry.

His forehead is crinkled, and his thin lips are pressed. There’s worry in his eyes. You feel guilty for making galaxies look sad. You cast your eyes down and cover your face with your hand. “Oh my God, what do you want, Sungjin?”

A sound escapes him, betraying that he didn’t know what to say or do next. He probably didn’t know why he chased after you. You try leaving again, “I have to go.”

But just like before, he moves to stop you. His hand catches unto the sleeve of your dress. You face him, your chin trembling. “Please. Not right now.”

His face washes with the realization that he might be pushing you too far. He relents, his gaze dropping to his feet. You run away, just like you did back then. He doesn’t go after you anymore.

You dash home, up to your room, and slam the door locked. Your knees finally buckle and you fall with your back against the door, curling into a ball. You’re shaking, and the tears that had been threatening to fall fulfill their promise.

_It was in the past. You can let it go._

As if the heartbreak you caused a boy never happened.

As if your father never shattered everything family was supposed to be.

As if… everything you shared with the boy you cared for would fade. Into dull routine. Into silent whiteness. Into cold forgetfulness. Into nothingness.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur. You don’t even know who you’re saying it to. To Sungjin. To Brian. To your mother. To yourself.

You realize that you had thought too soon. Maybe high school here was going to be a lot more complicated.

You throw off your dress and bury yourself in your blankets.


	9. CHAPTER 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Midnight call.

Your phone vibrates. It keeps going until you open your eyes. You glance at your bedside clock. 12:41 a.m.

Your heart has stilled, but the world still feels heavy around you. You wipe your crusty eyes, and your mind stitches together the narrative of what was barely just yesterday. You remember lunch with Fiona, Dowoon and Wonpil. Then running into Sungjin. Then the fact that you hadn’t spoken to Brian yet.

You dip your hand into your bag and fish out your phone. It’s Brian. You decide to answer.

“Hey.” Your voice is small. Weak.

“Hey,” he says with gentle concern, and a tinge of confusion. “I… was starting to get worried.” He paused. “Maybe I already am.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

His voice also drops to a whisper. “How are you? How are you feeling?”

You chuckle sadly. “Well, I’m better now.” You add, “I’m sorry about yesterday.”

“It’s fine. We don’t need to think about that,” he says, immediately forgiving. “But… did something happen?”

It takes a while before you reply. “I’m overwhelmed, Brian. I don’t understand what’s happening anymore. Things get good. Then they get bad. And I just feel like I’m being tossed around through it all.”

“Mmm,” he hums, understanding. He breathes out slowly, gently, and somehow it makes it feel like he’s right next to you. Just the sound of him is enough to quiet the storm inside of you. “I’m here to listen if you want to talk about it.”

“Brian,” you say, softly.

“What?”

“Sing me a song.”

He seems a little bewildered with the request. “What song?”

“I don’t know. You could make it up as you go along.”

“’Sing me a song,’ huh?” he repeats, thinking. You could almost hear the gears in his brain whirring. When the two of you had written songs together, he was usually the one who could pen down your elusive ideas. He had this way of making sense of things you didn’t know how to say out loud. It was almost like he could reach inside of you and grasp all the abstract, fleeting images you had sifting in your mind. Somewhere along the road, he had managed to take hold of your heart as well.

After a bit, he says, “Alright. This one’s from the perspective of the song.”

“The perspective of the song?” you parrot, intrigued.

“That’s right.” And then he started to sing.

He starts delicately, in a poignant falsetto. As the words flow out, your eyes widen. You don’t know if this was just Brian being his emo self or if he knew what was on your mind, but his first words paint out your fears. As he proceeds, his rich voice slides into a smooth vibrato at the inflections, despite the late hour and the softness of his tone. Sweetly, constance is promised.

His voice usually has a striking elasticity, but tonight it is mellow and subdued. He makes the song an acapella lullaby. There is an invitation – no, a demand – no, a plea. A plea that comforts you, that calls you to answer back, to return, to guard over and nurture something’s being.

A chuckle escapes you, and you notice that a tear has made its way down your cheek. You sniffle, but you wipe your eyes. “Thanks, Brian.”

“Are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah,” you croak. “I’m sorry to make you worry.”

He scoffs, “It’s nothing.” He adds, “Hey, you know you can tell me anything, right?”

“Yeah. I know,” You say softly, picking at the threads of your blanket. “It’s late. Aren’t you tired?”

“Ehhhh…” he didn’t want to admit it.

You smile. “Go to sleep. I’ll talk to you properly tomorrow.”

A yawn escapes him, “Yes, ma’am. Night night.”

“Night night,” you echo.

Before you go to sleep, you reach for your journal and switch on the bedside lamp. He probably didn’t know it, but in that one song, you felt like all the creases in your perceptions had been smoothed out. You felt the embers of your summer song rekindled.

Maybe high school here _was_ going to be complicated. But you had something to go back to, something to draw encouragement from. And maybe that would be enough. You scribble the words he sang. You weren’t going to forget them.

 

_My voice_

_and my breath_

_If that is_

_disappearing_

_In your mind_

_Because the time is flowing_

_Can you call me_

_once more_

_I'm going to be here_

_waiting for you_

_Even though time travels fast_

_Don't ever_

_Forget me_

_Cherish me_

_So that you can feel me_

_Call me_

_Remember me_

_So that I can be forever_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve always wanted an acoustic version of Sing Me. Wouldn’t that be lovely?
> 
> English lyrics of Sing Me lifted from: https://lyricstranslate.com/en/sing-me-sing-me.html


	10. CHAPTER 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sign ups.

You lumber down to the breakfast table. Your mom has pancakes out, and the smell is good enough to wake you up. “Good morning!”

“Hello there, dear.” She pours you a glass of orange juice. You take your seat and both of you say a quick prayer before eating. As you cut through the fluffy layers of pancakes, your mother observes, “I haven’t really seen you these past two days.”

You bite your lip. “Yeah. Sorry about that. School’s just been really tiring.”

“I see. I’d love to hear more about what’s happened in school these past couple days!”

You almost choke. You cough and flush it down with orange juice. You’re not entirely sure what to say. You didn’t want her to worry about you. She had enough on her mind already. “Uh, nothing much. I’ve been hanging out with Fiona and Dowoon again. Made another friend, too. His name is Wonpil.”

“Ah, the three musketeers have been united again!” Your mom beams. “And who’s Wonpil?”

“I’m not sure if you remember, but there was this boy in choir before–”

“Oh, the one you liked?”

“Mom!”

“Is this the good singer? You wouldn’t stop talking about him when you were a kid–”

You feel a strong sense of secondary embarrassment for your past self. “I did _not_ do that. No way.”

“Yes way!” She looks over the house. “I think the video tape of it might be somewhere in these boxes…”

“Oh God, mom, please don’t.” You hold your head in your hand.

“Alright, alright!” she says, chuckling. You glance up at her. You’re mildly annoyed, but it’s just great to see her smile. Knowing that her child seemed to be adjusting well and reconnecting with old friends (and flames, as your mom would probably put it) filled her heart with so much joy. You wanted that to be true, for her sake. Your mom continues, “Maybe some other time then. Eat up. You’ll be late for school.”

 

The first half of the school day passes by relatively uneventfully. The teachers are starting to pick up steam as they delve into your subjects, and your first few assignments are coming in. You spend lunch with Fiona, Wonpil and Dowoon.

“Hey, have you guys signed up for the music club yet?” Wonpil wonders out loud.

“Oh right. We didn’t have time to sign up after lunch yesterday. Want to sign up together later?” Dowoon invites. You all agree and then head to the nearest bulletin board after eating.

Wonpil scans the board until he finds the sign-up sheet for the music club. “Here it is!”

Wonpil takes out a pen from his pocket and scribbles his name. Then he hands the pen to Dowoon, who proceeds to write. When it’s your turn, your eyes flit up to the name that’s just above Wonpil’s. You stop cold.

 

_Park Sungjin._

 

You hesitate. You can’t seem to move your hand. You glance toward the others. Fiona is writing on the sheet for drama club, and the other two are busy talking with each other. You turn back in front of you, feeling your gut tremble as the writing on the paper taunted you.

 _I can’t do this,_ you think in a cold sweat. You’re panicking inside. _I don’t know what to do._

Why were you like this? Why were you so easily paralyzed by this boy?

… Were you actually considering bailing on music club and your friends just because of him?

You feel like curling up into a ball in your bed again. But the thought calls to mind the memory of Brian’s voice over the phone, singing to you until all your broken pieces felt mended together again. You breathe.

You are going to sign up. You bite your lip, still unable to write your name. But you have to sort things with Sungjin first before you do that.

Quietly, you retract your hand and hand the pen to Wonpil. He and Dowoon are so absorbed in their conversation that he doesn’t notice that you haven’t written your name yet when he takes the pen back from you.

Fiona checks her watch. “Alright, that’s done! We should start heading to our classes.”

“Okay! See you guys around!” Wonpil bids you all goodbye and jogs away. Fiona and Dowoon likewise split. As you walk to your next class, you feel like your legs are moving on autopilot. Life wasn’t giving you any other option than to deal with your problems, and it scared you to death.


	11. CHAPTER 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's all just a misunderstanding!

The school day has ended, and you head for your locker. Your mind is full. You try to sort out your thoughts as you reorganize the books in your locker and in your bag. _You are being irrational_ , you tell yourself. Not joining music club because of _one_ person was unfair to yourself and to the people you said you’d join the club with. But you could just tell your friends about the situation and they’d understand, right? And it’s not like you can’t play your guitar or sing outside of music club. Besides, without Brian there, it’s not like music club would be the same…

You sigh. You know you’re just making excuses. More than your agitation about the situation, it bothered you that you were even thinking this way. Why did Sungjin being there make you want to give up something you liked, something you wanted? He shouldn’t have anything to do with this! Besides, as long as you had Brian, even if he was a million miles away, you could survive anything. You should go ahead and sign up right now!

“[Y/N]?”

You snap your head towards the source, and you feel the color draining from your face again. Your confidence disappears as fast as it came. Why, just _why_ did he keep showing up?

He approaches you, and you can feel your anxiety levels soaring. Now? You knew you had to deal with this at some point but did you have to deal with this _now_? You weren’t ready! You didn’t know if you’d ever _be_ ready, but you definitely weren’t _now._ You hurry to close your bag and the locker, but you fumble with everything clumsily. _Oh my God, [Y/N], please don’t be an idiot right now._

“Hey, there’s something I need to talk to you about,” someone suddenly says.

Sungjin stops in his tracks. Both of you spin on your heels to face who was speaking.

It’s Jae. You blink in disbelief. “W-what?”

“We have to talk,” Jae repeats flatly, approaching both of you. He nods at Sungjin. “Sungjin.”

“Jae,” Sungjin nods back in acknowledgement, albeit warily.

“You’ll let me borrow her for a minute,” Jae says. “Won’t you?”

It didn’t sound like a question. Sungjin looks away and backs off. You watch everything unfold in confusion. Jae starts striding away. “Come with me.”

You don’t understand what was going on, but you go with him. You look over your shoulder. Sungjin watches you walk away. His face is colored with disappointment. You frown. He looked like he thought you saw him as a monster. It was killing you inside. You knew you couldn’t keep hurting him like this.

When you two have walked out of sight of Sungjin, Jae asks, “Is he behind us?”

“No…”

“Alright. You can go now.”

“W-what?” you stammer, stunned.

“You wanted to get out of there, didn’t you?” Jae asks, stopping to look at you. You stop walking as well, and stare at him, speechless.

His forehead crinkles. “Never mind.” He starts to walk away.

“Wait!”

Jae stops without turning to face you.

“What… what made you think that?”

He’s quiet. For a moment, you think he might not reply. Then he says, “I was across the street when he chased you yesterday.” He half-turns toward you as he adds, “And it doesn’t take a genius to read the look of horror you had on your face when you saw him earlier.”

You gulped. “You saw that?”

He casts his eyes down. “Don’t get embarrassed by it. If someone’s bothering you, you shouldn’t be ashamed to do something about it.”

Oh, he was… trying to keep you safe. He actually noticed. And he actually cared enough to do something about it. Your nerves cool a little, but you feel like you have to be honest with him.

“Well… he’s not exactly bothering me,” you admit self-consciously.

“Are you sure?” He moves towards you. You hear him speak gently, in a soft tone you’ve never heard from him before. “You know, if there’s a problem, we could report it to my mom.”

Your eyes almost jump out of their sockets, as if a huge alarm is blaring. This was a terrible misunderstanding. None of it was even Sungjin’s fault! “Oh my God, Jae, it’s _nothing_ like that.”

He crosses his arms. “Alright. Then what’s the matter?”

“He just… he just wants to talk to me,” you manage to squeeze out.

He raises an eyebrow, “You do understand that that still doesn’t sound like any kind of assurance that this is nothing to worry about, right?”

“N-No, you don’t understand! Sungjin didn’t do anything wrong! This is all my fault!”

He narrows his eyes at you, then pulls his phone from his pocket. “I’m calling my mom.”

“No, Jae, don’t!” you grab his wrist. His brow furrows, waiting for an explanation. You back off and he brings his hand down. “I’m sorry,” you say, looking at your feet. “But honestly, he didn’t do anything wrong. He just wanted to sort out something that happened before. But I…” you sigh and shake your head. “I just can’t seem to do the same because I feel so ashamed when I’m around him.”

You hug yourself. “I hurt him without an explanation. And… he didn’t deserve that. I was being immature.” You scoff, “Not like I’m any _more_ mature now, though, apparently. I’m sorry you got dragged into this.” You look up at him. The expression on his face has softened. “So… do you want to talk to him?”

“No!” you shriek reflexively, then sigh. “Yes. I… just don’t know how. Especially since I panic every time I see him.” You hang your head. “I want to run away from what I did. But I just end up running away from him.”

A sound escapes him, and you realize he’s smirking. “I’m sorry,” he says, conscious that you can see his reaction. “I just realized something. Anyway, have you considered writing him a letter?”

You blink. “A letter?”

He nods. “Sometimes it’s easier to say things when we don’t have to say it directly.”

“Oh…” The thought hadn’t occurred to you. Well, it was something to consider. “Maybe. But… I still don’t know what to say.”

He shrugs. “Be honest and considerate.”

“Yeah but…” you thumb small circles into your shoulder. “I haven’t even fully made sense out of everything. Out of what I did. Out of what I feel. Out of what I want.”

You had buried and blocked out everything about this for the longest time. You had no idea that the feelings had festered and jumbled when you thought you had left them dormant. They were not only daunting, but painful to go through.

Out of nowhere, Jae suddenly starts striding away. “Follow me.”

You watch him, stunned. “What?”

He just keeps moving forward, his long legs taking him even farther from you. You scamper after him. “Wait!”


	12. CHAPTER 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANNOUNCEMENT
> 
> I'm on the last few days of my semester, and after this I'll be moving to a new country, so I'm not sure if I'll be able to update at all next week. I'll update once my schedule allows it.

You and Jae climb up to the top floor of the school. You reach the end of the hall, and Jae brings out a set of keys and unlocks a door. The door opens to a room that looks like it’s been unused for years, but its large windows look like they’ve been newly cleaned. The view overlooks the glistening town and the verdant park, with mountains peeking in the distance. The wide-open sky was a vibrant blue, and sunlight poured in in an enriching stream. It’s beautiful.

You turn to him. “How’d you get the keys for this place?”

“Well, I had to start the debate club first.” He moved closer to the window and looked out, leaning on the pane.

Your eyes widen. “You started the club to get this room?”

He smirks in the sunlight. “To get this view, really.” He shrugs, “Well, my resume was another reason, but yes, that was mainly why.”

You nod, a little amazed. You step closer to the window and look out of it with him. “You like views like this, don’t you?”

He grunts. “I just like getting away from it all.” He turns to you. “And that’s why I brought you here. It’s easier to hear yourself think.”

You smile. He grins back. It’s the first time you’ve seen him smile. It was just a small crack of a smile, but it was sincere. For a flickering moment, the coldness in his eyes isn’t there. It’s warm.

He looks out the window again. “So. Tell me everything.”

You stare at him. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you’d end up opening up to a practical stranger about something like this, especially not someone like Jae. But… you wanted to get everything outside of you. You wanted to sign up for the music club, and you needed to fix things with Sungjin as soon as possible in order to do that. You gaze out the window. A gentle breeze blows over the town, and two birds sail through the skies. In the midst of these stacks of unopened boxes and dusty shelves, the bustling world was still for the time being. The time was right, and so was the place. That didn’t exactly make Jae the right person but…

You looked back at him. He quietly waited, his eyes watching the world below you two. He was serious. And you were willing to take a leap of faith.

“Well…” you start, not really knowing where to take this. “I guess I should start where it all began.”

 

You and Sungjin had known about each other since fourth grade. You always heard stories about how he was the star of your elementary school’s baseball team, and he knew about you because, well, you had characteristically managed to get hit on the head with a baseball while you were walking past the field during practice one day. Sungjin was immensely sorry for that, and his mother made him give you candies as an apology gift. There was so much that you couldn’t possibly finish the whole thing on your own. So the two of you ate them together on the playground.

Life proceeded as normal, and you didn’t interact much beyond shyly smiling back at each other in the hallways. In sixth grade, the two of you became classmates. The two of you would talk sometimes, and he started inviting you to watch his games. You didn’t fully understand the sport, but Fiona was a fan, so you ended up going with her. And of course, Dowoon would tag along, too.

Over time, he started teaching you a bit about the game. There would be times Fiona and Dowoon would be there, but there would also be times he’d talk with just you. His gorgeous eyes lit up when he talked about it, and he explained it in a way that made you truly respect the sport. And he was also interested in your interests. He listened to you talk about what you did in choir, and the new songs you had to learn.  He would tease you about singing for him, until, finally, when the two of you were skipping stones in the park’s pond, you gave in.

That first time you sang for him, he stared at you like he had heard an angel. You punched his shoulder. “Ugh, don’t look at me like that.”

“You were amazing,” he murmured.

You shook your head, looking for another stone to throw across the water. “You’re just saying that.”

“No, I mean it!” He insisted.

“Well… thanks I guess,” you said shyly, looking up from your search. You two shared a grin, then you returned to your hunt for the perfect stone and said, “Well, now it’s your turn.”

“Eh?”

“C’mon, let me hear it.” You found a decent stone and moved it around in your hand.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, thoroughly confused.

“I _mean_ it’s your turn to sing.” You swung your arm back and then launched the stone into the air.

His eyes widened and he laughed, “Ohhhh no. No, no, no.” He began to look for a stone to keep himself distracted. “You’re not making me do that.”

Your stone hardly made it across the pond before sinking into the water. You rolled your eyes. “ _Wow,_ this is how I get repaid after letting you hear me sing?”

He winces after picking up a stone. “Uggggh, [Y/N], it’s going to be so embarrassing.”

“Psssh you can’t be that bad. Come on.”

“Can I just do something else for you? How does ice cream sound?” Sungjin bargained.

You raised an eyebrow, “Clever move, but I’m not going to let you off that easily.”

He pouted. “Alright but… don’t make fun of me, alright?”

“You make fun of me all the time, this is just evening the playing field.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, but both of you laughed. He took a deep breath and threw his stone. His arm arched high over his head and his whole body lurched forward when he threw it – and yet all with such easy grace. The stone skipped seven times over the water as he straightened up and said, “Here goes.”

 

_You were "you"_

_I was "I"_

_We've been living without_

_Knowing each other_

_With a "Hi"_

_Now, it's you and me_

_It's "us" now_

Now it was your turned to be floored. His voice echoed over the rippling waters, and the surprise humbled you. The way he had played it down, you thought you’d have to hold off on listening with your choir brain on. But he was objectively better than practically all of the boys currently in choir. His voice had just deepened within the year, and it had gained a beautiful, soulful raspiness to it. It seemed to rub your heart raw.

“Sungjin, that was fantastic!”

He scratched the back on his head. “Ah, you think so?”

“Absolutely!” and you started fawning over his vocal quality. He stood there, smiling bashfully as you showered him with compliments. He glowed, hearing you talk about him like that.

After that, the two of you started singing together more – sometimes on the walk home from school, sometimes in the park or the baseball field. Sungjin loosened up considerably, and he started being comfortable with belting out high notes in ballads and acoustics. He even started bringing a shaker to mark the beat with.

As the school year neared its end, your hangouts became more and more frequent. You could spend hours with each other just talking about baseball or singing, or even life in general. He was sometimes awkward and apprehensive about showing his emotions, but you knew that underneath all that, he was sweet. And caring. And dependable.

But then your parents told you about the move to Toronto. You told everyone, including Sungjin. You still remember how his face had paled when you told him the news. He looked almost like he couldn’t believe it, like he didn’t know what to do with the information. But after a few days, he said, “Hey, let’s hang out one last time before you leave. At the baseball field. For old time’s sake.”

“Sure, I’ll be there after practice.”

“Uhhh how about at sunset?”

“Uh yeah, okay. Sure.”

“Great. I’ll see you then.”

On your last day of school, at twilight, you went to meet Sungjin at the baseball field. As you approached, you noticed that there were fairy lights in a circle at the center of the diamond. Then a guitar started playing. You turned and noticed Sungjin, strumming a gorgeous white guitar, slowly walking from across the field and into the circle.

You were awestruck as you walked towards him. “Sungjin?” You eyed his trembling hands, still unsure with the guitar in his arms. “Since when did you play the guitar?”

He just smiled, his pearly white teeth shining. When you entered into the circle, he finally opened his mouth. And he sang.

 

_With a full of joy face_

_You're looking at me_

_I walk towards you_

_And say this lovely word again_

_To you_

_Hi Hello_

_Whenever I say this to you_

_The word that excites me_

_Hi Hello_

_After we say this to each other_

_Our story begins_

His eyes sparkled as he looked at you, reflecting more than just the fairy lights in the backdrop. The orange pink sky washed both of you in tender brightness. In the peaceful stillness of it all, the cool wind swirled around the both of you, almost like a ribbon tying a gift closed. You thought everything was magical, but… “Sungjin, I’m confused.”

“[Y/N], I have something to tell you,” he said, full of conviction. He took a deep breath, then continued, “I like you a lot.”

The world stopped. You lost your breath. You stepped back, shaking. “I-”

“[Y/N], I know you’re going to move away, so I wanted to say it before I regretted it. I think you’re beautiful, and I love talking with you.”

You feel hot on your cheeks. You’re speechless.

“And I want to keep talking with you. I know this might be hard with the distance and all, but… will you be my girlfriend?”

“I…” You felt like the ground under you had disappeared. His glistening eyes watched you, full of hope and fear. The full magnitude of his gaze rested on you.

You couldn’t handle him looking at you like that.

You turned away and ran. As fast as your feet could take you. All the way home. That was the last time you two ever spoke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> English lyrics of Hi Hello taken from: https://genius.com/Day6-hi-hello-lyrics


	13. CHAPTER 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dropping this earlier than expected because the Day6 hashtag now has an icon on Twitter. Go support Day6 in Soompi voting!

“I was… shocked,” you say, after narrating everything. The sun is beginning to go down, and the color of the sky is slowly changing. Jae is listening to you intently, with eyes that follow yours. You go on, “I didn’t expect him to say that. The whole time, I thought he and I were getting to be really good friends. I had no idea he would suddenly _confess_ to me. I misread _everything_.” You grunt, feeling like kicking yourself. “I was such an idiot.”

You sigh and rub the back of your neck. “I wonder if I might have, I don’t know, led him on or something.” You feel something rising in your throat. “You know… I felt terrible when it happened. I hated myself for not paying attention. For being inconsiderate of what he might have felt. For calling it something else when I should have called it what it was. I felt like maybe I had thoughtlessly stirred his emotions. I must have blindly ignored all the signs. I felt like I lied to him, and made him believe something that wasn’t true. I had been so _unfair_ to him.” Your voice cracked. The question that had been boiling inside of you finally surfaces.

“But apart from that… I also doubted myself. More than misreading his feelings, what if _I_ had misread what we were? Were we really just friends?” You swallow and shake your head. Your knees feel like giving way. “And I didn’t have an answer for that.” Your lips tremble, and your eyes sting. ”So I didn’t want to answer him. So I wished that he never asked. So I ran away. So that I could treat it like it never happened.”

You drop your head. “I just pushed it all away, and moving to Toronto made it that much easier to bury everything. But now that I’m back… everything that I wasn’t able to resolve came back again.“ You hold your face in your hand. “The moment I saw him, all the guilt came back. The confusion did too.”

“That must’ve been scary.”

“Yes. And I was _very_ scared.” At the bottom of your heart, you knew why you were treating Sungjin like crap. “Every time I see him, the same feelings come back. And so I have the same response.” You had to grab on to the window ledge to support yourself. You squeak in shame, “To run away.”

You hated yourself for it. Not only were you stupid and insensitive, you were also a huge coward. You were a cruel coward who made someone innocent and dear to you suffer because you couldn’t face what you had done.

His brow furrows. “You were really hard on yourself.”

You only sniffle in response. His gaze returns out the window. “Please don’t blame yourself for not knowing. If someone likes someone, it’s up to them to let the other person know.” He turns around and leans his back on the wall. “It’s better to hear something straight from a person than to assume things,” Jae said. “Judging from your story, you were happy to be with him. You can’t hate yourself for feeling that way, and for expressing that. You were just being yourself. And he liked you because you were being yourself.”

Your chest swelled. _You were just being yourself. And he liked you because you were being yourself._

Suddenly it was like the heavy weights that had been bogging your heart down had been cut off, and it was buoyant again. You didn’t _make_ Sungjin fall for you, in your selfishness or your stupidity.

You were just being yourself.

Authentic, without any other intention than to enjoy being with him.

And if he liked that about you, it wasn’t because you had manipulated his feelings. It was because of something he saw in you.

You feel like you can breathe again. Your eyesight is fogging up.

Jae leans his head back, and he looks up at the ceiling, continuing, “And if perhaps what you felt was love… well, you were younger then. Things have changed. Maybe you’ve changed. Maybe he has. What matters more is what you feel _now_.” He turns to you. “It’s easy to obsess over what ifs. And it’s easy to feel the tug of what we should have done, begging us to just _do_ something.”

He shrugs and looks away again. “But the past is what it is. Mistakes are made. Some things can’t be undone and some things disappear and can’t be brought back. It’s heartbreaking, and confusing,” He says pointedly, shaking his head. Then he breathes. “But… even if we can’t really grab hold of the past, it leaves its mark on us. It leaves us with whatever we have now. And I want to believe that that’s all we need to decide.”

The sunlight was shifting, stretching out your twin shadows on the dusty floor. You stare at him, stunned – maybe even mildly awestruck. Finally, your tears brim and fall from your eyes. “You’re nicer than you make yourself out to be,” you sob.

“Oh, God.” He springs to bring out his hanky and offer it to you. He shakes his head, “I’m not nice.”

“Alright. Then you’re not nice,” you agree, taking the hanky. You touch his arm, and his eyes dart to you. He had stepped in when he thought you were in trouble. He had shared his hideaway with you. And he had listened to you even when you weren’t making sense. You couldn’t understand it. He was impatient and sharp and rigid and didn’t care what anyone thought. But at the end of the day…

“You’re a good person, Jae.” You smile from behind the hanky and whisper, “Thank you.”

He turns away. He mutters, “It’s not a big deal.”

Suddenly his phone blows up ringing, surprising you. On the other hand, he looks like he was expecting it. He quickly grabs his phone out of his pocket and checks the caller ID. He narrows his eyes and huffs, then pushes himself off the wall and starts pacing to the door. “I have to go. Just lock the door on your way out.”

You’re only able to watch him exit, stunned by the abrupt change. Just as he hurriedly leaves the room, you catch him taking the call and saying, “I was fixing the club room. I’ll be at guitar lessons in fifteen minutes.”

The door swings closed after him, cutting off the rest of the conversation. You’re left all alone in the empty club room, holding his hanky. The whole room is the color of peaches.


	14. CHAPTER 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To: Sungjin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANNOUNCEMENT
> 
> Today is my first day of classes, and I have no idea when I'd be able to write again because I'm still settling in, among other things. You'll just know when it happens.

You lay in your bed, staring at the ceiling. You didn’t linger much longer in the club room – being there without Jae almost felt like trespassing. But being there had helped – a lot. You had finally coaxed the truth out of you – the questions and fears and guilt that had been broiling inside of you. And Jae’s words still rang in your head.

_Even if we can’t really grab hold of the past, it leaves its mark on us. It leaves us with whatever we have now. And I want to believe that that’s all we need to decide._

You wanted to believe it too. You turned on your side and faced out your window.

It wasn’t just about Sungjin. You loved this little town, tucked away behind green ridges and winding roads. But you didn’t want what had happened to be the reason for your return.

The image of this town had been washed out in your mind. Part forgotten, part changed, part… missing. Some of the pictures that used to be around the house had been taken down. And it also felt like a part of you had been left behind back in Toronto.

What did you have now?

 

“Hey,” you greet, swiveling in your desk chair. On the other side, Brian answers, “Hey yourself. How are you? Feeling better?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“That’s good.”

He doesn’t say more. You can sense that he wants to ask about what exactly happened, but isn’t sure how to approach it. You fill in the gaps.

“I saw Sungjin yesterday,” you say.

“Oh…” he can tell by the tone of your voice that it didn’t go so well. “What happened?”

“He was trying to talk to me. But… I was just really overwhelmed yesterday. Too much was going on.” Your fingers fidget with the corners of the yellow post it notes on your desk. “And everything’s mixing in together.”

You close your eyes, allowing yourself to say it. “I ran away from him. Again.” You breathe. “It’s not his fault. It never is. But he just reminds me of everything I’m trying to leave behind. And yet can’t.”

You continue, “And… that sort of also explains why I had reacted the way I had when I spoke with you. I know you didn’t mean it that way, but… when you said I could let go of something because it was in the past…” You didn’t know how to make him understand that you couldn’t just drop something that had happened to you. And… you also couldn’t say that you were scared it might mean that he could easily leave _you_ in the past as well.

Before you can think of how to explain, Brian says, “I’m sorry for rushing you, or making you deal with complicated things when you weren’t ready. You went through hell, [Y/N]. People get battle wounds after a war. You should just be focusing on healing.”

“God, Brian, I wish I could heal faster.” You weren’t really very good at being this way. You weren’t very good with emotions in general. They boiled inside of you like a football brawl, and you were always scared of getting knocked down by them. And that happened all too often.

“It’s _alright_ , [Y/N]. Don’t torture yourself for feeling what you feel. The point is that you keep going.”

You bite your lip. You weren’t very confident about what lay ahead. But you knew what you wanted, and you knew you weren’t satisfied with the way things currently were. You didn’t know if you could make everything better.

But Jae had a point. Maybe we did have what we needed to decide. And you decided that _you_ would be better. “Yes. You’re right.” You say. Then you add, “Hey, can you help me with something?”

“Yeah sure, what’s up?”

“I want to write a letter to Sungjin. I want to set things straight,” you say, thinking you sound like you have more conviction than you really do.

You hear him chuckle faintly. “I’d love to help.”

 

_Sungjin,_

_I know I haven’t been treating you fairly. I didn’t mean to run away – any of the times that I had. There were a lot of things I felt that I didn’t understand, and unfortunately, because of that, you had to bear the brunt of everything that was going on with me. I know this happened a long time ago, but I wanted to give you the explanation you deserve._

_The day before I left, I ran away from you because I didn’t have an answer for you. But I suppose silence became an answer in itself._

_It was a decision I didn’t choose to make, but now it’s too late to go back and make a real decision. That’s not something I’m happy about, and it hurt to think that not choosing properly was a regret I was going to have to live with._

_I buried that regret in the past, so that it wouldn’t get to me anymore. But when I saw you again, everything came back. And I felt everything again – and I didn’t know what to do with it, because the time for those feelings had long passed. I thought that I_ couldn’t _do anything about it._

_But after thinking it over, I realized that somehow, we’re in the same school, in the same class again. And I know I can’t undo what happened. But I want to do right by you from now on._

_If you ever thought I was mad at you, or that I hate you, I want you to know that I’m not. I’m sorry for running away, and for cutting you off. I’m sorry for any time I embarrassed you. I know I hurt you. I didn’t mean to, but I still did anyway. I’m sorry for what I did, and for everything that’s happened since._

_I know you’ve wanted to talk. I understand if you’re upset. Honestly, I wish you were._

_I don’t really know what’s going to happen from now on, but I don’t expect us to be the way we were before. I know it’s not that simple, and that we’re not the same as we used to be. But whatever happens, I want you to understand that you were important to me. And even after everything, I realized that you still are._

_You were beautiful._

_Sincerely,_

_[Y/N]_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm worried that it might still be too early in the story to drop this song but IT WAS JUST SO PERFECT THOUGH???


	15. CHAPTER 15

When you woke in the morning, knowing what you were going to do, you felt like you were having an outer body experience. You ate breakfast and put on your clothes like you were running on autopilot. You couldn’t believe you were really going to give the letter. But you were going to. _He deserves it_ , you tell yourself.

In school, when you enter the homeroom, your eyes fall on Sungjin. The past three days, he had always been the first face you see in class. Seeing him had triggered shock, fear, and guilt inside of you. But today, when you looked at him, you were thinking about how much he had changed since sixth grade. He had shaved his hair off, and his shoulders were broader. But his eyes still sparkled when he laughed with his baseball friends. You felt something else now, when you looked at him. You missed him.

The teacher came in, and you realized you had spent too long standing by the door. You crossed over to your seat and asked for Fiona’s help in giving the letter to Sungjin. At first she was surprised, but ultimately, she looked pleased and ready to give you a hand. Somehow, she just understood.

Discreetly, Fiona managed to slip the letter into Sungjin’s bag as everyone exited the homeroom. And that was it. No taking it back now. It was done.

After that, you felt antsy the whole day. You had no idea how he’d react, and you weren’t sure how you would take it. Brian had wished you luck, and Fiona had squeezed your hand before heading to go to her next class. But other than that, the day’s lessons hardly provided any comforting distraction from your anxieties. It was like waiting for a bomb to drop, except you had no idea where or when it would happen.

Thursday came and went. Everything felt so… mundane. You hardly felt present during lunch with Fiona, Wonpil and Dowoon. The flow of your chat with Brian was distracted and shallower than it usually was. The day passed so surreally while you waited. Although… you weren’t entirely sure if there was something to wait for.

There was one thing that you kept telling yourself. If you were met with silence – the same silence you had given him – then you would accept it. Not because you were scared of confrontation, but because you respected it if he had decided all that was left to discuss had been said. You weren’t sure why he wanted to talk to you, but you tried to say everything you thought he deserved to know. Maybe that was all he was looking for.

You were scared to even hope that anything else would really come out of this. You tried to focus on what you decided mattered most. You were honest, and you said sorry. “You did the right thing,” you whispered to yourself in the bathroom mirror after washing your face. It wasn’t everything. But it was enough.

 

Friday likewise passed in a rather unreal way. And then, when you opened your locker at the end of the day, a piece of paper fell out. You bent down to pick it off the floor. It read, “How does ice cream at the park sound? I’ll be waiting for you at the school entrance.”

The handwriting was less clumsy now, but it was unmistakably Sungjin’s. You guessed this was the bomb you were waiting for, but somehow, even after all this time, he still knew that ice cream was the key to your heart.

You took a deep breath. No more running away.

 

He was waiting for you at the top of the stairs, leaning on the railing. When your eyes meet, he makes a small smile. You awkwardly smile back. Your feet manage to carry you over to him.

“Hey,” he says. He sounds a little hesitant, but his gaze falls on you with a warm softness.

“Hey,” you echo. You were scared, going in to this. But now that you are here, you couldn’t see any anger or bitterness in his face.

It feels weird. Standing in front of him like this again. He is taller than you, and something about him feels strong and stable. You almost felt… safe.

He asks you how your day went. As you and Sungjin walk to the park, you talk about some of your teachers, some of the lessons you had. You ask about how he’s doing. He talks about baseball and tryouts and the upcoming season. There are several pauses, and the conversation is mostly just slow-paced small talk for a while. But it’s nice to hear that he’s been doing well.

When you arrive at the park, he treats you to a cone. He still remembers your favorite flavor. Both of you eat your ice cream while sitting on the grass by the pond, just like you used to. It’s quiet for a while, and you two just watch the ducks paddle across the pond.

“Hey, [Y/N],” Sungjin finally says.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for coming,” he turns to look at you.

“Well, I couldn’t really say no to ice cream.” Both of you chuckle. Then you continue, “But yeah. I’m happy you invited me to join you.”

He nods. After a pause, he says, “I read your letter.”

You bite your lip. Here it comes. The serious part of the conversation.

Sungjin goes on, “I appreciate it.” He turns to watch the ducks again. “I… wasn’t expecting it. Honestly, after last Tuesday, I thought you never wanted to speak to me again. I mean, I’m the kind of idiot who still would have tried again, as you obviously saw,” he said, poking fun at himself, “but… it sort of felt like grasping at straws. It was all I could do, even if I felt like it was useless.” He looked at you from the corner of his eye. “I’m sorry about that. I know I scared you. I just… couldn’t help it.” He chuckled, “I got a little greedy. Both now and back then.”

He suddenly becomes more absorbed with his vanilla ice cream. “The timing was bad when I asked you to be my girlfriend. I put you into a difficult position. When you ran away, I was heartbroken, but now that I’m older, I realize it was a bit of a shot in the dark. I should have been ready to accept whatever answer you gave. Maybe a confession would have been enough. Maybe asking for a relationship was too much pressure. Besides, we were kids.” He looks like his eyes can see something beyond the ice cream in his hand. “I felt so guilty for so long. I hated myself for doing something that would push you away. I hated myself for losing you, especially since you went so far away. So when you said you weren’t mad at me, and that you didn’t hate me, I finally felt like I could forgive myself.”

He turns to look you in the eye. “You have no idea how happy that made me.”

You finally feel like you can breathe again, even if you feel like your chest is swelling now. “Thank goodness.”

The two of you share a smile. You were so relieved. You had forgiven each other and yourselves. The strain between the two of you was slowly dissolving.

Sungjin then says, “When you said that I was important to you, and that I still am, I almost couldn’t believe it. And… it’s the same for me. I know it’s been two years. And I have to be honest, for a long time, I was still hung up on you. It’s only recently that the feelings I had for you have started to fade.” He shrugs. “You’re back now though, and I’m still processing what I feel about it.” He smiles at you. “But you don’t have to worry about that. After everything we’ve been through, I’ve learned that it’s more important to me that I keep my friend.”

The park is quieter now. The parents have taken their kids home, and the joggers are further away from the pond. The water reflects the trees, and the late afternoon sky. Sungjin adds, “Maybe the feelings still linger. But I don’t care. I’d still rather have you in my life.”

You hold each other’s gaze for a moment. You smile. You lean on his shoulder. He leans his head against yours. Everything was going to be okay.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

Without warning, you stand up, surprising Sungjin a bit. You quickly wolf down what’s left of your ice cream, and say, “Hey, let’s go back to school.”

“…Suddenly?”

You nod, cleaning your fingers with tissue. Sungjin stands up and likewise finishes off his vanilla cone. “Let’s go!” you say, and you start running in the direction of the school. Sungjin, confused, jogs after you.

When you arrive at the school, you immediately head toward the cafeteria. Sungjin comments, hurriedly walking beside you. “[Y/N], you aren’t _seriously_ craving cafeteria food right after eating ice cream, are you?”

You roll your eyes. “Wait for it.”

You make a beeline for the bulletin board. There’s a huge grin on your face as you grab a pen out of your bag. Sungjin watches you, curious despite being puzzled. With sure strokes, you write your name on the music club sign up sheet. Sungjin blinks at you, a little astonished. You turn to face him and beam.

“Now it looks like you won’t be getting rid of me any time soon.”


	16. CHAPTER 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 🦊

Sungjin walked you home after that. At the door, he puts his hands in his pockets and looks at you. You say, “Thanks for today, Sungjin.”

He smirks and shrugs. “Thanks too, [Y/N].”

You start to open your door. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

He nods. “Yup, see you in school.”

Right as you enter, he calls after you, “Hey, [Y/N]?”

“Yeah?” You half-turn toward him.

“We’re okay, right?” There’s some mild apprehension in his voice. You pause and look at him for a while, then nod. “Yeah. We’re alright.”

He grins widely. “See you.”

You wave goodbye, smiling. He hops off your porch and you close the door after you. You lean against the door, and you can’t help but smile. You two were finally okay again. You were so full of joy that you ran all the way up to your room and catapulted into your bed. You immediately told Brian.

           

🌱: _BRIAN GUESS WHAT_

🦊: _Did Stray Kids make another comeback or something?_

🌱: _Well, there’ll be a unit song out soon, which is great, of course, but UNRELATED TO THE PRESSING MATTER AT HAND_

🦊: _If this is about the world ending, don’t worry, I have a year’s worth of snacks stocked in my bedroom._

🌱: _Okay, you know what, forget it, I’m just going to tell Fiona._

🦊: _NOOOOOO COME BACK COME BACK I’LL BE SERIOUS I PROMISE_

🌱: _You better be_

🦊: _Sike_

🌱: _I’m done, no more Sungjin updates for you_

🦊: _OH MY GOD IT’S A SUNGJIN UPDATE WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME SOONER_

🌱: _Odd thing, I was wondering why it was SO hard to tell you_

🦊: _Well, quit dillydallying and just SPILL already_

🌱: _What an impatient little diva_

🦊: _[Your naaaaaaame]_ 😑

 

You laugh in your bed. It was fun to torture him a little. You finally tell him all about it, and he sends back weird voice messages that only have two second reactions in them, like gasping or “ermagerd,” or excited hyperventilation. You have no idea why you find someone this annoying so cute.

Then finally, the little bubble pops up showing that he’s typing. It takes a while, but he finally says,

 

 _That’s such a huge relief. I’m so happy you two sorted everything out. I know how hard this was for you to do, but you were really brave for pushing through. You did great, [Y/N]_ 😊

 

You smile. You’re about to type, “I couldn’t have done it without you.” Suddenly, a second message comes in.

 

 _So does this mean you two are going to date now?_ 😸

 

You almost throw your phone in irritation. Seriously, no one can ruin the mood more than this clueless idiot.

 

🌱: _Ugh, Brian, it’s not like that_

🦊: _If you say so~~~_

🌱: _Did I mention that I hate you?_ 😑

🦊: _I love you too_ 😊

🌱: _But seriously, we’re just going to be friends._

🦊: _But you said that he said, “Maybe the feelings still linger.”_ 😮 😮 😮

 

Maybe, just maybe, you should stop telling him every single detail about what goes on in your life.

🌱: _Yeah, but he also said he doesn’t care and that he’d still rather have me in his life._

🦊: _LOL_

🌱: _What?_

🦊: _[Y/N], he’s a guy. He probably just doesn’t want to scare you for now, but I’d say there’s a chance he’s determined to get closer to you._

Your brow furrows. Another message appears on the screen.

 

🦊: _Look, I’m not saying that what happened last time is going to repeat itself. But I don’t think that you can just write off feelings on his side. And honestly, that’s okay. You might find yourself catching feelings for him too._

You scoff. At that moment, your mom called you for dinner from downstairs.

 

🌱: _That’s not going to happen. Anyway, gtg dinner._

🦊: _Alright, alright~ have a good meal!_

 

It kind of pissed you off to see him so readily talk about you being with anyone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wheeee support Miroh!


	17. CHAPTER 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You make an adorable flower girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SUPPORT DAY6 IN THE SOOMPI AWARDS! Let's get the rising fandom award! #TwitterBestFandom #SoompiAwards #Teamday6 #DAY6_Youth #day6 

“Mom?” you say at the dinner table. The olives in your salad hardly make it more appetizing.

“Yes, [Y/N]?” she answers while adding more leafy greens to her plate.

“Do you think someone can be friends with someone who used to like them?”

She pauses and looks at you. You push the olives around on your plate. She finally says, “Well, it really depends, sweetie. If both people want to be friends, then I think they can find a way to make it work.”

You swallow. “What if one of them wants to be more than friends?”

“Which one? The one who liked the other person before?”

You nod. She replies, “A lot of it has to do with timing, and what both people feel, [Y/N].”

“What if the other person is sure they don’t want to be with the person who likes them?”

Your mother reaches for your hand from across the table. “Sweetie, is there something you want to talk about?”

You look up at her. “Do you remember Sungjin?”

She blinks. “Wow, I haven’t heard that name in a while.”

“Long story short, I left on awkward terms with him. Maybe that’s putting it lightly. He confessed to me before we left, you know? And I never gave him a proper answer. I felt bad about that for a long time. But today, we finally fixed all that. I had a great day. But then Brian told me that even if we had gotten past that, it didn’t mean that Sungjin didn’t feel anything for me anymore.”

“And you don’t like Sungjin?”

“He’s likeable. Very likeable. It’s just… not him that I like.”

“Well… do you know for sure whether he likes you or not?”

You shrug. “He said that he wasn’t entirely sure, either.”

“Ah.” Your mother smiles and pats your hand. “Just be a good friend to him. If your dynamic with him is clearly a friendship, I think that the two of you will see each other the right way. And even if feelings still develop in the future, then you’d know better by then what you should do.” She continues to eat. “Don’t close doors on people early, without really knowing for sure what you or others might feel or think in the future. At this point in time, all you have to think about is being a good friend.” She grins at you brightly. “You should be enjoying your youth instead of worrying.”

Your mood lightens. Somehow, you’re hungry again. You smile. “Okay. Thanks, mom.”

“Sure, sweetie.”

 

The next day, you were helping your mother unpack more of the moving boxes. You lay out everything according to which room they belonged in, and you were almost done. The bathroom already had everything it needed, and the kitchen was almost completely stocked with all the utensils and pots and pans. Now, you were just going through everything for the bedrooms and the living room.

You pull out a box of souvenirs of the places you went to while you were in Toronto. You smile and cut the tape. You uncover a bunch of keepsakes – a keychain from Banff National Park, a magnet of CN Tower, pamphlets from ski resorts in Whistler, and a sketch a street artist gave you of the Old Quebec cityscape. You dig deeper and come upon a picture of you and Brian in skin-hugging, wet, plastic raincoats. The picture was taken when both of you were mid-laugh, squealing as the cold spray of the Niagara Falls behind you rains over the two of you. You’re leaning in to him, as if it would shield you from the water. You were just able to make eye contact with the camera as the picture was taken, but Brian’s gaze is on you, watching you hide from the splashes. You finger over the picture tenderly, then set it aside for you to take to your bedroom. You were still a little hurt by how he was trying to encourage you to consider Sungjin last night. Seriously, how could he not feel anything when he looked at you _like that_?

You take out a couple more things that would be nice for décor around the house and close the box up.

“Mom, where do you want me to put the souvenirs?” you call to her, since she’s in the dining room, putting away the center pieces.

“Maybe you can take them up to the attic?”

“Alright!”

You carry the box up two flights to the attic. As you set down the box in the dusty upper room, you hear squeaking coming from a box that had been there for a long time. You panic and go toward the box, opening it. A small mouse jumps out, startling you. You scream and it skitters away. You check the contents of the box to make sure that it hasn’t been ruined. Thankfully, the hole the rat had made at the bottom is new, and the video tapes inside are unharmed.

You scan through the labels, curious now. There were several from your choir days, and some from parties and field trips.

“[Y/N]?” your mother calls, worried. She seems to be just outside the door. “Are you alright? I heard you scream.”

“I’m okay! Just saw a mouse.”

Your mom enters the attic, and she finds you looking through the old tapes. She smiles and squats down beside you. “Oh wow, these sure bring me back.” She grabs one from the corner. “Oh hey, remember when you brought up Wonpil the other day? I think this is the tape where you mentioned him.”

You grunt. “Ugh, mom, I don’t need to see that.”

“But you were so cuuuute. Your first crush!” she gushes.

You roll your eyes. “Moooom.” Then you pause. “Was he really my first crush?”

She nods and fishes out another tape. “Let me show you something.”

You go downstairs to the living room, where an old VCR player is still hooked up to the television. She slips the tape in and rewinds. When she hits play, the TV bursts into color, and a seven-year-old you is standing in front of a mirror. You were wearing a beautiful white dress, with lace and tulle. Your mom was behind the camera. “Hey, [Y/N]!”

“Hiiii!” your younger self replied.

“Can you show us the dress?”

You twirled around in your little white ballet shoes. Your mother giggled. “So can you tell the camera why you’re all dressed up?”

“We’re going to a wedding!”

“And what are you going to do there?”

“I’m the flower girl!” You beamed, jumping up and down in your excitement.

“That’s right!”

“Honey,” your father called from the bedroom, “let’s go! We’re going to be late!”

The recording stops and then starts again at a new scene, taken from a bit of a distance away. This time it’s you and a boy around your age, dressed in a handsome black tux. The two of you were talking with each other while the wedding planner was getting everyone lined up for the march into the church. He pointed at the flower pinned to his coat, and you poked it. The two of you had big smiles on while you chattered. It took you a while, but you recognize the adorable eyes that didn’t quite look at you straight, and the huge smile. “It’s Wonpil,” you say out loud.

Your mother nods. “Yup. You were the flower girl and he was the ringbearer at that wedding. The two of you hit it off and played with each other practically the entire event.” Your mother chuckled. “Everyone kept teasing the two of you, but you even seemed quite happy with it.”

After watching you throw flowers as you walked down the aisle, your mother fast-forwarded past the wedding ceremony, and into the reception. The tape squeaked until your mom hit play at a scene of you and Wonpil sitting beside each other at the dining table. He whispered a joke into your ear and you laughed. A grandaunt commented, “Oh, don’t these two youngsters make such an adorable couple?”

“Auntie, they’re seven!” your father exclaimed.

The grandaunt shushed him, “Well, let’s see what they say, huh?” She turned to the little you. “[Y/N], darling, you get along well with Wonpil, don’t you?”

You nodded vigorously. “Yeah! I want to marry him!”

All the adults at the table burst out in laughter.

Your mom chuckles, still as amused as she had been before. You chuckle along with her. _Wow, I really said that_ , you think. It was embarrassing, but you had to admit – pretty cute as well.

The younger Wonpil suddenly piped in, “I want to marry [Y/N], too!”

The adults giggled a second time, and the man beside him pat him on the head. “Maybe when you’re older, sport!”

Then Wonpil then turned to you and whispered in your ear. The camera didn’t catch it, but suddenly you hear his seven-year-old voice in your head.

_“Wait for me when we’re older.”_


	18. CHAPTER 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sunday morning

You’re all alone in a swirling crowd. Yellow and purple lights dazzle you, and there’s a faded love song playing in the background. You spin around, trying to orient yourself and find a familiar face in this blur of strangers. A spotlight comes on and falls on someone wearing a tuxedo. You try to focus, but the spotlight is so bright that it blinds you. Suddenly, someone screams.

Your eyes burst open. You feel around in your bed, realizing you had been dreaming. And yet… something in your gut knew it wasn’t just a dream. You just didn’t know what else it was.

You look at your clock and huff. 8:14 a.m. Time to get ready.

 

You arrive a little late, and you can hear the music from outside. You follow your mother into the hall, rushing so you don’t miss any more than you already have, and yet quiet, so as not to disturb anyone. Halfway through the door into the main hall, you freeze.

On stage, to the left, behind the lead singer at the center, under the dimmed lights, was a boy with a vintage red and white guitar strapped over his shoulder. The air was solemn, and his head was bowed over the guitar cradled in his wiry arms. You couldn’t reconcile what you were seeing to what you were hearing. Soft, mellow notes dripped out of the guitar from under the boy’s careful fingers. The melody ached in you, and caused you to be still. It sounded like a confession. And it was coming from Jae.

The lead singer opened his mouth, and you snap back to attention. You scurry to where your mother stood, several rows ahead of you. Throughout the entire section of the program – and you feel a little guilty because you knew it wasn’t supposed to be what you were focusing on – you couldn’t pry your eyes off of Jae.

He moves like the music does, almost visibly throwing himself into the song. Several pieces are sung – heartbroken and somber to upbeat and triumphant – and Jae is fully enraptured in the playing of each of them. He swings and bends and pulls back like he’s wrangling with the life of every chord. Or he prances and tilts and spins around like he’s following some invisible muse in a fleet-footed dance. You feel like if you close your eyes, you could still hear him, distinctly, almost tangibly, with understanding even without words, with your heart instead of your ears. He plays like he’s trying to reach someone.

The last song comes on – something hopeful, full of promises and strength. Jae breaks out of his corner, ecstatic. His face is lifted up, as if basking in the freshness of a bright summer day. And that usually stone-cold face lights up with a big, liberated smile, like he had secretly understood the mystery of Joy all this time. You blink. It’s unmistakable. Faintly, but surely, through the crowd of swaying bodies and raised hands, in passing glimpses, Jae must be glowing.

 

At the end of the service, you’re tagging along with your mom as the congregation welcomes you back. An old teacher says hi, and a family friend invites you for dinner. The small talk is warm, albeit a bit awkward. Those who know skirt around the topic, and those who don’t ask questions about your dad. You force a polite smile.

From the corner of your eye, you can see Jae clearing up the stage. Noticing that your mother is now deep into kitchen hack conversations with the local housewives, you discreetly break away and approach the stage. Jae is kneeling beside one of the amps, rolling black cable around his knuckles. “You were great today, by the way,” you blurt out.

He looks up from his work, but only stares at you. His guitar pick remains between his lips. You gulp awkwardly and start walking away. “I-I guess I’ll see you in class.”

Suddenly the pastor who replaced the one you grew up with catches you. “Why, hello there! You must be the daughter of [your mother’s name]. Welcome back!” He shakes your hand, and glances behind you. “I see you’ve met my son, Jae!”

Your eyebrows raise and you stare at Jae. Whaaaaaat?

Jae clenches his jaw slightly, continuing to loop the electric cord around his hand. Pastor Park continues cheerily, “The two of you must be in the same grade! If you ever need anything, Jae will definitely help you out. Won’t you, Jae?”

“Yeah, sure,” Jae replies flatly, standing up. He walks toward the back of the stage. “Excuse me.”

The pastor turns to you and pats your shoulder. “He’s a very helpful kid.”

You grin, “Yes. I know.”

The pastor nods and starts shimmying away. “I’ll see you at the bible bonanza this Wednesday!”

“We’ll see, Pastor Park,” you chuckle. The guy was such a dad. You’re just about to go find your mom when you notice a little blue chip on the floor of the stage. You realize it’s Jae’s guitar pick. You run up the stage and pick it up. You head backstage to return it to him.

“Hey,” you say, behind the curtain. Jae was arranging some of the equipment in the dusty backroom. You offer up the pick. “You dropped this on the stage.”

He takes it from you. “Thanks.”

“So… you’re the son of the principal _and_ the pastor.”

He huffs, “Don’t start.”

“Okayyy…” you say. You step into the backroom, lean against the wall and just watch him. After a while, he turns around. He seems surprised you’re still around. He squints his eyes at you, then smirks. He crosses his arms. “Did you get to talk to Sungjin already?”

You smile and nod. “Yup! There’s nothing ice cream can’t fix.”

He scoffs. “I don’t think ice cream’s going to get my groupmates to submit their parts of the paper early.”

“Oh, those cases call for a triple chocolate super hot fudge delight sundae.”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “God forbid those actually exist.”

“They do, and _thank God_ they do.”

“Right. So how did your conversation with Sungjin go?”

“We sorted it out. I sent him a letter, like you suggested. Then he sent me back a note asking to meet up. We went to the park and finally came to terms with everything. We agreed that we’d rather still have each other in our lives than let the past come between us.”

A small crack of a smile appears on his lips and he nods. “Nice.”

You start rummaging through your purse. “I… wasn’t expecting to see you today, but I already had it in my bag, so…” You pull out his hanky, newly laundered. You give it back to him. “Thanks. Really. You talked a lot of sense into me.” You add, “I know you like your space. So I’m grateful you decided to make an exception that day.”

After a pause that feels like eternity, he walks towards you, asking, “What did you say your name was?”

You jolt up and gawk at him. You realize that after all this time, you two had never been properly introduced. You weren’t sure if he knew that you shared homeroom together, or if he remembered you as the same girl who spilled his strawberry drink the other day. After opening up to him, you just assumed the two of you were already friends. But you realize that he had never called you by your name once. In fact, this was probably your first real conversation with him, other than the one in the clubroom. You were still strangers. And you realize that you still hardly knew a thing about him. You blush, thinking maybe you had acted over familiar. “I-It’s [Y/N],” you mumble.

“[Y/N],” he echoes. He’s standing barely more than a foot apart from you. He looks straight into your eyes as he takes the hanky from you. “I’ll remember that.”

Before your brain can even register a half-decent reply, someone barges in through the curtains. “Jae, there you are!”

It’s Jasmine. The moment she sees you, she stomps over to Jae and locks her arm around his. “Excuse us,” she says, practically sneering. “We have a music ministry meeting to attend to.” She proceeds to drag Jae out.

He shakes her off but continues alongside her. He glances over his shoulder at you as he walks out. “See you, [Y/N].”

You nod and wave goodbye. Your mom sends you a text saying that she’s waiting for you in the car. On the way home, you reflect. Even if you could _officially_ say that you and Jae knew each other now, you realize that there was still so little you understood about him. You remember that he had mentioned guitar lessons. But playing like the way he did wasn’t something that could be taught.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Cause I've seen a lot of tweets talking about Jae as a church boy. And I figured, we have the same faith, so why not, right?
> 
> "I live for glory  
> Not for me but all to Him  
> May my heart stay here"


	19. CHAPTER 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the quirkier chapters I've written.

On Monday morning, Wonpil greets you as you come to you assigned-unassigned seat in class. “Morning, [Y/N]! How was your weekend?”

You blush, suddenly remembering the videos of your younger selves that your mother had shown you. You couldn’t really tell him about that, could you? Although… you do remember that he once said that the first time he had seen you, you were in a white dress. Could he still remember you?

The teacher suddenly came in, and you were forced to take your seat and give a curt reply, “It was great! You?”

“Pretty chill, thanks.”

The teacher made a bunch of announcements, including some related to clubs. “For those of you in the music club, your club adviser, Mr. Park Jinyoung, wanted me to tell you that you will be having your first club meeting after class today. Please head to room 501 for the meeting.”

Wonpil suddenly grabbed your arm and you had to contain your surprise. He turned to you, and said in very audible, whispered squeals, “Did you hear that [Y/N]?! Mr. JYP is going to be our club adviser!!!”

You blink. “… Who?”

Wonpil presses his hands against the sides of his head, as if trying to contain all the chaos of his excitement. “He’s like the most famous musician this town has ever produced. I didn’t even know he was teaching! Kyaa!”

“What does he do?”

“Everything! Everything, [Y/N]! He sings, he dances, he produces…” Wonpil has obviously gone off the deep end of fanboy mode. “I want to be like him when I grow up.”

You grin. “I think you’re well on your way there, Wonpil.”

He turns to you, a bright shimmer in his eyes. “I hope so, [Y/N]. I want to make music that reaches people.”

Suddenly you remembered Jae. It seems like the two of them had more in common than you originally thought. Then you wondered… maybe you should invite Jae to the music club? He played the guitar, after all.

When homeroom ended, you approached him. “Hey, Jae.”

He glanced up from the book he was reading as he was walking out of the classroom. You had seen him doing that several times. He was always reading – even walking while reading. “Oh, hey, [Y/N].”

Fiona, who was right behind you, stepped back, stunned. “Wait, you two know each other?”

Jae nodded curtly, then turned to you. “What is it?”

“Do you want to join the music club with us?”

For a moment he just stares at you. “What for?”

You blink at him. “Well… you play well.” You shake your head. “Actually, that’s an understatement. You play phenomenally.”

“Thank you, but as you’ve seen, I’ve already got more than enough music-related activities.”

“I don’t believe that,” you blurt out. His eyes dart to you, and you suddenly feel self-conscious. You look down. “N-Not with the way you play, at least.”

Jae smirks slightly, amused. “Sharp.” He shrugs. “But I have to be realistic. I already have my weekly schedule more or less solidified for the year.”

You frown. “Oh. Alright. How’s recruits for the debate club coming along?”

He shrugs. “I’ll figure something out. Anyway,” he says, turning to go to class. “I’ll see you around, [Y/N].”

After he walks away, Fiona grabs you. “Okay, [Y/N], first hanging out one on one with Dowoon, and then the letter to Sungjin, and then suddenly you and Jae are _friends_? _In the span of one week?_ ”

You grin sheepishly. “Ahahaha, there’s actually a lot more I need to tell you about. So much has been happening these past few days, I thought I’d go crazy.”

Fiona frowns. “You could’ve told us something at the table during lunch.”

Whoa. Fiona seems a bit hurt that you hadn’t been talking to her as much. You feel bad about that. But honestly, what could you do? You hardly had the time to breathe from all the events that had been happening lately. For goodness’ sake, you almost slept the first couple nights away.

You pull Fiona closer, out of earshot from anyone else. “Yeah but… some of my stories _include_ Dowoon and Wonpil.”

Fiona’s eyes grow. “What’ve you been getting yourself into, [Y/N]?”

You sigh. “It’s complicated… I’ll message you.”

So throughout the day you juggle paying attention in class and texting Fiona about everything that had been happening. By the end of the day, she is finally all caught up.

 

Fiona: _Brian better get his act together or else he’ll lose your heart to one of these boys._ 👀

[Y/N]: _Ugh, Fiona it’s not like thaaaat. Besides, no one can replace Brian in my heart._

You sigh. You know that was a bold statement, but you were sure of it. That wouldn’t change – right?

At the end of your lab class, you and Dowoon head to room 501 for the first music club meeting. You discover that it was on the opposite side of the building from the debate club room. When you enter there, Wonpil and Sungjin are already seated beside each other, talking. They wave you over. As you make your way to them, another boy in the room who approaches you. “Hi! I’m Kevin! I’m a junior. Welcome to the After School Music Club!”

You raise your eyebrow. “Is there a Before School Music Club?”

“I told you, Kevin,” a heftier guy butts in. He nods at you. “’Sup. I’m Bernard. Sophomore.”

“Hey. I’m [Y/N],” you say, introducing yourself. “Freshman.”

“Dowoon. I’m with her,” Dowoon pipes up.

“Ugh, look, it was Jimin’s suggestion, I was just rolling with it,” Kevin explains. He turns to you. “Awesome! Now we’re just waiting for Mr. JYP and Mystery Prez.”

“Who?” you ask, lost.

“Look, you don’t need to do everything your little sister tells you to do,” Bernard snorts. Paying attention to you, he answers, “Mystery Prez is the president of the music club. She’s a senior and actually really good at managing things.”

“Yeah but what’s her na–”

Suddenly Kevin’s phone rings. He takes the call and puts the phone on speaker mode. “Hey, Mystery Prez! Glad you could make it!”

You stare at the phone broadcasting the call. But… she technically hasn’t made it.

“Hey, ASMCers! How you all doing?”

Bernard looks annoyed that she seemed to be riding the After School Music Club thing. “Et tu, Mystery Prez? It doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue…  ”

“Mystery Prez, we have four new recruits!” Kevin announces excitedly.

“Hey!” you and the others chorus in greeting.

“Yes, I saw the recruitment list! Hey, Sungjin, Wonpil, Dowoon, and [Y/N]! I’m Mystery Prez. Mr. JYP should already be on his way.”

A middle-aged man in a muscle shirt walks into the room. You stare, confused. Was there something in the handbook about dressing like this in school?

Everyone greets him, “Good afternoon, Mr. JYP!”

“Hey guys! Let’s start with a round of introductions. I’m Park Jinyoung, but you can call me Mr. JYP. Some of you might have heard of me before. After my solo career as an artist, I decided that I wanted to train more talents, so here we are. Now it’s your turn. Tell me your names and your musical talents.

“Hello! Mystery Prez here,” came the voice from the phone. Wait, she still wasn't going to give out her name? “No particular talents, just really good at managing things and I’m _very_ passionate about music.”

“Hi Mr. JYP! I’m Kevin. I’m the vice president, and I sing and dance.”

“Hey. I’m Bernard. I’m the secretary. I sing. And I play a little guitar, I guess.”

“Hello. I’m Sungjin. I sing, and I’ve started learning the guitar.”

“Hi! My name is Wonpil. I sing and play the piano.”

“Hey, I’m Dowoon. I play the drums.”

“Do you sing?” Mr. JYP asks.

Dowoon shakes his head. JYP nods and turns to you. “And what about you?”

“Hi. I’m [Y/N]. I sing and play the guitar.”

Mr. JYP chuckles. “It looks like we have a lot of guitarists here.” He folds his arms over his chest. “I’m more used to handling dancers and singers, but it seems like we have more people who can play musical instruments here, maybe we could form a band.”

We all nod. “Okay, that seems like a good idea,” Sungjin says.

“I was thinking we could have a lead guitar, a rhythm guitar, and a bass. How does that sound?”

You, Bernard and Sungjin look at each other and shrug. “It seems workable,” Bernard says.

“I’ve played lead guitar before,” you inform everyone. Mr. JYP nods. “Alright, and what about you two? Who’ll be rhythm and who’ll be bass?”

Sungjin holds out his fist toward Bernard. “Rock, paper, scissors for it?”

Bernard likewise brings out his fist and they play. Sungjin wins and chooses rhythm guitar, and Bernard takes bass. Mr. JYP then says, “I need to decide who the main vocalist should be. Since it seems like all of you can sing, I want you to prepare a song for our meeting next week. I’ll decide from there. I’d also like you to come up with a band name. Now that that’s out of the way, let’s start talking about ground rules and other logistical concerns.”

While Mr. JYP explained the ground rules and you took down notes, your mind wandered to how you had taken the position of lead guitar from Brian.

 

Back in Toronto, your music club had been divided into the marching band section and the modern music section. You and Brian had been assigned to the marching band section because all the slots in the modern music section were _always_ taken first. After you had spent a month of practicing the tenor sax, the two brothers who had played the lead guitar and the bass guitar in the modern music section moved to a different city. So their slots became available, and your club adviser opened auditions for people in the marching band section to take the newly opened positions.

Both of you played guitar, but there was only one slot for it. The other would have to be forced to learn the bass. So you competed for it. And neither of you were about to back down.

Both of you prepared for it in secret, and you bluffed with each other about how long you practiced (or didn’t practice). You knew how crazy Brian’s work ethic was, and it sort of inspired you to work hard as well. You spent hours practicing on Jason Mraz songs, and then moved to advanced YouTube tutorials.

After a close fight that required four tie breaker songs and the second opinion of the physics club adviser next door, you ended up buying him loads of ramen after you beat him for lead guitar, and he had been assigned to play bass. “Bass is sexier anyway,” he sourgraped, slurping up his ramen.

You chuckled, picking up your sushi between chopsticks. “That instrument is wasted on you, then.”

Brian narrowed his eyes at you and jabbed at your sushi from across the table, taking some for himself. You both laughed.


	20. CHAPTER 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Sorry it took so long to update! The past few weeks have been crazy, but I wanted to have some chapters out in preparation for Wonpil's birthday. <3

After music club, you and the others start packing away your things. As Mr. JYP and the upperclassmen say goodbye and file out of the room, you notice that Wonpil has walked over to the keyboard in the corner of the room and started setting it up. After toggling with its settings for a bit, he starts playing. He presses around tentatively, as if trying to recall the chords to a song. He’s humming and correcting himself. The almost-melody seems to call to mind the cold, and the comfort of warm porcelain between your fingers and a wool shawl pulled tight around your shoulders.

You approach him, curious. It’s melodic – sweet and tender, but grand. As he approximates the notes, you feel it coming closer and closer to home. Finally, he strings together just the right notes, and you recognize the song immediately. Wonpil opens his mouth and sings. You mouth along the words with him, fumbling with the words that escape you. But he’s still got it.

 

_I’m so bad_

_But always with the same face_

_You wait for me_

_Now I finally know_

 

_Just like your love_

_That loves me_

_Just the way I am_

_Just the way you are_

_I’ll hold you_

_I’ll accept you_

_I’ll try_

 

You watch, entranced. This song was his. He owned it now, just like he had back when he and some of the others performed it, while you observed from backstage, drinking warm honeyed water to calm your nerves before your song came after. His voice had made you hold your breath, and the jitteriness in you was stilled. His voice echoed through the auditorium, hanging in the air like a string of white gold. And even now, the tenderness of his voice seemed to fill the whole room.

He pauses and looks up at you. He smiles, and you smile back. “It’s that song again, from the winter special.”

His grin widens, and he nods, “So you do remember.”

You chuckle, “How could I forget? You sang that on the first day of school, too.”

He purses his lips shyly. “I didn’t think you’d remember.” He bites his lip and bows his head, then ventures, “What about this one?”

He plays another song. Your forehead scrunches, then you shake your head. “No, sorry. What is it?”

He looks at you for a moment, then shakes his head and chuckles. You frown. “What?”

He shakes his head even more and he laughs a little harder, “No, no, it’s nothing.” He looks you in the eyes. “Just another old song.”

You look at him curiously, and you’re about to ask a question when Dowoon shows up beside you. “Hey, [Y/N], wanna go home together?”

You turn to Dowoon. “Oh yeah, sure!”

“Awesome! Let’s go!” he tilts his head towards the door.

You face Wonpil again. “You wanna head out with us?”

Wonpil nods. “Yeah, let me just get my bag.”

The three of you then head out. As Wonpil opens the door, you hear a voice outside speaking. “You’re running out of time, Park.”

Your eyebrows go up. Wasn’t that Mr. Ellis? You and Wonpil exchange glances, and Dowoon peers over your shoulders.

“Recruitment period is until the end of the month. I have time,” comes the stern reply. Jae? Holding the door just slightly ajar, the three of you hide behind it and listen.

“Other clubs have already had their general assemblies. They already have their officers. There are _earlier deadlines,_ Jae.”

“Yes, by the end of the week. I’m aware.”

“Jae, how do you expect anyone to sign up if you aren’t putting any posters anywhere? Do you even have any sign-up sheets up? Have you even filled out the promotion request forms in the kit I gave you?”

No reply. Mr. Ellis sighs, “You refuse to promote.”

“I don’t need to promote,” Jae answers stubbornly. You almost have to take a step back. What was he saying? At that moment, Sungjin approaches you three. “Guys, what’s happening?”

You all shush him aggressively, then plant your ears on the wood of the door again. Sungjin looks confused, but he leans in as well.

“Well, unfortunately, you need members, Jae,” Mr. Ellis pauses. “What have you been doing all this time?”

“I attached a detailed activities calendar in the proposal.”

“Funny thing, Park. Even if writing the by-laws and code of conduct is impressive and important work for any organization, it’s fruitless if you have no one to follow them.”

You peek through the crack between the door and the frame. You notice Jae’s hand, tucked behind his leg, curl and uncurl.

“Look, Jae, I know you have your own way of doing things, but you need people. That’s the entire point of a club. You need at least five people! And you’re the only one in the club so far!”

Wonpil suddenly snaps to the side to look at you, “[Y/N], we have to help him!”

Your eyes widen. “What are you talking about, Wonpil?”

“He needs five people. We’re four people – including him, that’s five!”

“Four?” Dowoon parrots.

“Yeah, you, me, [Y/N], and Sungjin!”

“Whoa, whoa, I did not ask to be roped in like this,” Sungjin objects.

“But we have to help him! Jae could get into trouble!”

Sungjin narrows his eyes, “He’s not going to get into trouble, stupid. If he doesn’t get five members, the debate club dissolves – that’s it. Honestly, no one even knows about it, so it’s not going to matter.”

Wonpil bows his head and frowns. “Yeah but… it must matter to Jae.”

Your heart melts. Suddenly you remembered being in the club room with him. The window, overlooking the town, taking up almost the whole west wall of the small room.

_You started the club to get this room?_

_To get this view, really. I just like getting away from it all._

You remember his eyes leaving the window for a second, to look at you. You remember his small crack of a smile.

_It’s easier to hear yourself think._

Jae wouldn’t admit it. But, even if Wonpil didn’t understand exactly why, he was right. It mattered to Jae. Even if he would never explain that kind of thing to a teacher.

“I’m going to tell him I’m signing up.” Wonpil starts to break forward, and you almost jump. You grab his wrist. “Wonpil!” You say in a loud whisper. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“[Y/N], if I can do something to help someone, I’ll do it.”

You stare at him and his dark, determined eyes, stunned. He pulls open the door and jogs to Mr. Ellis and Jae with his hand raised. “I’ll join the debate club!”

Jae spins on his heels, his eyes wide with shock. He sees Wonpil approaching, and you and the others exposed by the now open door. His jaw clenches, and you internally panic. _Oh, crap._

“Wonpil?” Mr. Ellis exclaims, confused and surprised.

Wonpil grabs Mr. Ellis’ hand with both of his. He looks up into the teacher’s face beseechingly. “Mr. Ellis, please don’t let the debate club dissolve! I’ll join it!”

“What?” Jae snaps, incensed.

“U-uh…” Mr. Ellis is speechless, confused.

Wonpil continues, “[Y/N], Dowoon and Sungjin will join, too!”

Sungjin bursts, “Hey, I didn’t say yes to that!”

“Please, Mr. Ellis!” Wonpil presses on, ignoring Sungjin. “That’s five people! That’s all he needs, right?”

“Uh, yes…”

“Then you’ll let him keep the club, right?”

“A-as long as the officer forms are submitted and the general assembly is held by Fri–”

“You’re the best, Mr. Ellis!” Wonpil then launches himself unto the teacher, enveloping him in an embrace. The perplexed teacher pats his back tentatively. “O-okay, Wonpil, just doing my job.”

Wonpil steps back and pulls his arms together behind his back, beaming like a sunflower. “Thanks, Mr. Ellis.”

Still a little overwhelmed, Mr. Ellis turns to Jae. “I guess that solves your problem then. I’ll be waiting for the paperwork by the end of the week.”

The teacher then walks away. Wonpil pirouettes to face Jae. “Jae! Did you hear that? The debate club is staying FOREVER!”

Jae is visibly shaking in anger. He glares at Wonpil, who pauses to look at him, settling down from the hype. Jae then takes a sharp turn and stomps down the hall without saying a word.

“Jae, wait up!” Wonpil says, running after him. Dowoon dashes after them, and you and Sungjin follow suit.

Jae reaches the debate club room and throws open the door, almost ripping it off of its hinges. He goes to the table facing the window and leans heavily against it. His breathing is audible. Now that all of you are in the room, he spits, “General assembly. Now.”

Only half-turned to face you four, he points at Sungjin. “You’ll be treasurer.”

He points at Dowoon. “You’ll be sergeant at arms.”

Then he points at you. “And you…” He finally seems to be catching his breath. “You’ll be vice president.”

“What about me?” Wonpil asks.

“You can be the secretary,” Jae hisses, his blood rising again. He shoves a thick pile of membership forms and other papers into Wonpil’s chest, almost knocking him over.

“Alright, dismissed!” He starts herding you out of the room.

“W-When’s our next meeting?” Wonpil inquires as the four of you get escorted out the door. Out in the hall again, you all turn to face Jae. He makes a Cheshire cat grin. “I’ll let you know.”

Then he slams the door closed and you hear it click locked. The four of you stare at the door, taken aback. Sungjin shakes his head, pissed. “What is his _problem_?”

Sungjin starts to walk away. You, Wonpil and Dowoon are still standing there, a little overwhelmed. Dowoon turns to you. “[Y/N], we should go. We still need to work on our chemistry worksheet.”

You nod, easing yourself out of… whatever just happened. You turn to the boy beside you. “Wonpil?”

He’s frowning. “I’m sad.”

You likewise frown and reach for his shoulder. “Oh no, Wonpil, don’t be!”

He whimpers. “Jae must’ve been so scared he’d lose his club that he’s still uptight until now!”

You blink at him. Oh, what an innocent angel.

You pat his back. “Hey, I’m sure Jae will be back to normal in no time.” Although, you weren’t sure if normal Jae was much gentler. “But we should get going.”

Wonpil shakes his head. “No, I’m going to finish the paperwork Jae gave me before I head back.”

You’re perplexed. “It’s a lot of work – are you sure?”

Wonpil nods. “Jae looked so upset. If it eases the stress from him, then I’ll do it.”

Your lip trembles. _Oh my Lord,_ you think, _the world doesn’t deserve him._

You turn to Dowoon, “Dowoon, let’s just work on our homework here. I don’t want to leave Wonpil alone.”

He makes a face but nods. He settles down on the floor, crossing his legs. You and Wonpil sit down beside him, in front of the debate club room. Suddenly, another person settles in beside you. “Sungjin? I thought you already left.”

“Yeah, I was _supposed_ to, but then I overheard this idiot trying to be a martyr, and as treasurer, I can’t really leave the secretary all alone, right?” He extended his hand to Wonpil. “Gimme the budget form.”

Wonpil smiled, looking at the three of you. “Thanks, guys. You’re the sweetest.”


	21. CHAPTER 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY BACK! Hope you guys enjoy <3

Sungjin has a pencil tucked behind his ear as he punches in numbers on his calculator. “Hey, guys.”

“Yeah?” Wonpil replies, running through an index and copying something unto a separate piece of paper.

Sungjin takes the pencil from behind his ear and scribbles something unto the budget form. “The debate club is cool and all, but don’t forget that I have baseball on top of music club. I have my work cut out for me.”

You ask nervously, “You’re not going to back out, are you?”

Sungjin smirks at you and shakes his head. “Nah, I’m seeing this through to the end.” He sighs, “I’m just worried about my grades, that’s all.”

At that moment, Dowoon drops his pen and stretches. You look up at him. “You’re done?!”

He blinks at you, then smiles awkwardly. You grunt. You hadn’t even finished three questions from your half of the worksheet. He bows timidly, “Do you want me to go over your half as well?”

You sigh, surrendering, and offer your paper to him. He starts going over it. “Hey, you’ve got it all so far!”

The whole time you had known Dowoon in grade school, he would fall asleep in class, and you had to help him figure out how to calculate how many watermelons Felicia had left before the final exam. Yet somehow the freshman Dowoon was a chemistry prodigy. Even if you were _still_ trying to keep him awake during the last class of the day, he’d be able to answer the teacher whenever he was called, only to nod off again right after.

As Dowoon starts writing down the given for the next item, Sungjin pipes in, “You seem pretty good at chemistry, Dowoon. Do you do economics?”

Dowoon shrugs. “I’m not particularly good at it, but I’m better than I used to be because of [Y/N].”

Sungjin looks at you, awed. “You’re good at economics?”

You shake your head and your hands. “Oh no, no, no! My best friend’s a genius at it, though.”

“Fiona?” Sungjin guesses.

“No, no, I meant my guy best friend,” you clarify.

“Your guy best friend?” Dowoon echoes.

“He lives in Toronto,” you explain, “but he still helps me out in economics every now and then.” You smile at Sungjin. “I could hook you up with him if you want.”

Sungjin lights up. “Yeah, that would be great!”

Dowoon suddenly pulls away from the paper he was working on. “Ah, the rest of this more or less just follows the steps of the previous problems.” He offers you his half of the worksheet, with his solutions written on it. “Just use this as a guide, you should be fine. I just remembered that I have something to do at home.”

“Oh! Th-thanks,” you say, startled, taking the paper. Dowoon promptly packs away his things and stands up. “See you guys.”

All of you bid him goodbye, and he walks away. You, Sungjin and Wonpil continue to work. While you’re checking your significant figures, Sungjin begins, “So… this guy best friend of yours…”

You glance up at him quizzically. Sungjin continues, “Are you two close?”

“Um, I don’t think I’d call him my best friend if we weren’t close,” you answer, chuckling. “Canada was alien territory for me.” You smile, remembering how Brian was always there to wave you over in the crowded cafeteria, or to give you your first taste of Tim Horton’s, or to watch your favorite drama with you when no one else had even heard of it. “He made it feel like home wasn’t so far away.”

Wonpil grins. “Yeah. That makes sense. When I moved away, I stayed with my grandparents. Being in a new school and around new people was strange, but being around them, especially my grandma – it made me feel safe.”

You nod. He grins and looks down, continuing to write on the forms. Then softly, a little more somberly, “Everyday, when I would come home from a long day of school, my grandmother would come to me and ask, ‘Baby, should I make you some ramen?’”

You glance at him a moment. He has a sentimental look on his face. As he scribbles in the forms, he goes on, “She was the warmest person in this whole entire world.”

You watch him as he diligently fills out the paperwork that he didn’t _have_ to do, but was doing anyway. So that’s where it came from. _No wonder,_ you think to yourself.

He breathes in before admitting, “I miss her.”

Something in your heart pricks when you hear him say that. There’s a longing in his words that feels like a spool of thread that has rolled away and won’t return no matter how much you pull it back.

Sungjin glances up at Wonpil, who has taken a momentary pause from work. He exhales and starts packing up his things. “Hey, I think that’s enough work for one day. You guys want to grab some snacks or something before heading home?” He smiles. “How does ramen sound?”

You smile when he suggests that. Sungjin wouldn’t outright say it, but his actions spoke louder than words.

Wonpil looks at Sungjin and grins softly. “Alright.” He stands up and goes to the debate club door. “Hey, Jae! We’ll go ahead, alright? I’ll finish the forms before the deadline, I _promise_!”

There was no response, but it didn’t look like Wonpil was waiting for one. He spins to face you and Sungjin. “Let’s go!”

 

The three of you find a cush booth in the ramen restaurant and settle in. As you wait for your order, Wonpil starts to bring out the paperwork. Sungjin rolls his eyes and stops him before he can take out the large pile of paper form his bag. “Ugh, Wonpil, you have an entire week before that’s due. Just leave it.”

Wonpil sighs. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I just… I just want to do something about all this. I feel bad that Jae was all alone in his club.”

Sungjin grunts. “ _Dude_ , don’t feel bad about it. It’s _Jae._ He doesn’t want to have anything to do with anyone. If he wanted to get five members, it wouldn’t have been a problem for him.” He sighs. “Honestly, all he’d have to do is tell Jasmine, and she would have taken care of everything.”

Your ears perk up. “I just realized… is Jasmine not in the club?”

Wonpil shakes his head. “She’s not mentioned in any of the forms. Everything was all Jae.”

Sungjin narrows his eyes. “That’s… odd. I would have thought that it would automatically be the two of them.” He shrugs. “I mean, those two are basically inseparable.”

You and Wonpil, being the new kids, lean in closer to Sungjin, curious. “Have they always been like that?”

Sungjin nods. “Always. I don’t know how they know each other, but even on Jae’s first day of school back in seventh grade, he didn’t talk to anyone but Jasmine.”

Wonpil props his elbow on the table and leans his chin on the palm of his hand. “I wonder why that is…”

Sungjin shrugs. “Maybe she’s just not into debate?”

At that moment, the ramen arrives, and your attentions are all immediately focused on the steaming noodles in front of you. “Ah, it smells so good!” Sungjin exclaims, sniffing the rich air.

Wonpil excitedly attacks the noodles with his chopsticks, “Let’s dig in!”

 

After ramen, Sungjin splits with you and Wonpil. You and Wonpil then head home. As you walk, you tap your belly, satisfied. “Ahhhh that was great!”

Wonpil grins, “It was great. You know, the last time I missed my grandma, I tried to cook some ramen for myself. But I ended up pouring half the salt in the jar into the broth.”

Your jaw drops and you laugh. “Oh my God, what did it taste like?!”

Wonpil chuckled, “Well, let’s just say that I _definitely_ did not inherit my grandma’s cooking skills.”

You chuckle as well, and then you say, “She really meant a lot to you, huh?”

He nods. “Yeah. My sister and I moved away to stay with her and my grandfather because our parents were really busy. She took really good care of us.” His voice grows quieter. “I have a lot of memories with her. And I still love her a lot.”

You squeeze his arm. “I’m sure you had her whole heart, Wonpil.”

He smiles at you, and he shrugs, “Yeah, well, I had to go back here after.” He gulps. “The pain’s still kind of fresh, but at least I have my sister with me.”

You nod, frowning. So that was why he came back.

You two talk a little, but it’s quiet and mild. You sense that Wonpil sort of just wants to reflect a bit. You didn’t realize that someone so cheerful was currently harboring such hurt. His heart was still so warm even when the world around it had suddenly turned cold.

You arrive home. “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, Wonpil.”

He nods. “Yeah. I’ll see you.” He takes a step back. “Thanks, by the way.” He tilts his head a little sheepishly. “Talking to you about it just… makes it all better.”

You bow your head shyly. “Naw, it’s nothing.” You shrug. “I’m just here if you ever want to talk about anything.”

Wonpil bites his lip and inhales. “Well, uh, there might be one other thing.”

Your eyebrows raise. “What do you mean?”

He makes a face and shakes his head. “Never mind. Maybe tomorrow. It’s getting late.” He suddenly turns to go, waving his arm in a large arc as bids you goodbye. “See you!”

You blink, a little confused. “O-okay. See you!”

 

You’re sitting at the dining table, in the ballroom from the wedding reception. You’re seven again, wearing the white lace dress once more. You’re surrounded by adults, but their faces are a blur. You turn to your left. Young Wonpil is there, looking like a charming young prince. He’s eating a slice of wedding cake. “Do you want to try some of my cake? It’s good!”

He portions a bit for you and shifts it to your plate. “Thanks,” you say.

He glows with that smile that seems to light up the whole room. “You’re welcome!”

As you eat, you look over your shoulder to the bride and groom. They’re sitting together on an elegant bridal seat, surrounded by flowers. At that point, the host stands up and says, “And now, we are at the point of our program where the bride and groom will dance together!”

The groom stands and offers the bride his hand. She takes it, and he leads her to the dance floor. Their favorite song plays, and the two of them circle around the room, swirling around each other, their eyes never parting. The spotlight follows them, and all the world bears witness to their love. You feel the sanctity of being able to glimpse inside their world. You sigh. You’ve never seen two people more in love.

As the song fades out, the newlywed couple slow to a halt and lean in to each other for a kiss. The room cheers and applauds, and confetti explodes over the dance floor. The song shifts, and the host announces, “Now everybody rock!”

The bride reins in her bridesmaids to the floor, and they string their plus ones along with them. An aunt grabs Wonpil and a grandfather asks you to dance. The two of you are whisked away to opposite sides of the room as the lively music plays. Everyone is dancing and the floor is shaking with everyone’s stomping. Arms are flying and there’s laughter everywhere. But you can’t exactly lose it because you keep looking over your shoulder, looking for Wonpil.

The upbeat song transitions to a slower one. It’s sweet, and yet somehow twists your heart. The people around you pair up, and the grandfather who had danced with you excuses himself to rest in a chair.

You anxiously look around, not sure what to do in the midst of this sea of partnered grown ups. After a minute of weaving through bodies and dodging people who are lost in their own world, you and Wonpil spot each other through a window in the tuxedoes and gowns. You hurriedly maneuver your way toward each other.

Finally, you meet at the center, immediately clasping each other’s hands. You hold on to each other as if you were scared of losing each other in the crowd again. Your breathing slows, but you can hear your heart beating louder. You share each other’s gaze. The lights seem to twinkle like stars around you, echoing how the melody in the air sparkled.

Wonpil opens his mouth to say something, and you watch him in anticipation. But then suddenly, someone screams and the two of you turn your attention to where the sound came from. Someone had bumped into the wedding cake while dancing, and the towering cake began to tumble over. People scattered and were pushed out of the way just as the cake smashed into the floor.

You jump awake. You realize that that wasn't a just a dream. It was a memory. And that was the other song Wonpil had played on the piano.


	22. CHAPTER 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to turn [Y/N]’s age to fifteen. I realized I had done a miscalculation before, my bad. I'll edit the previous chapters later.
> 
> IT'S BEEN AGES SINCE THE LAST UPDATE, BUT! I hope I'll be able to focus on this more in the days to come. Wish me the best, please HAHAHAHHUHUHUHU.

You sit up in your bed, trying to make sense of your dream. It really had been a memory. During the reception at the wedding you and Wonpil attended when you were still seven, there had been dancing, but it was cut short because someone had bumped into the massive tower of a cake and toppled it over. Your other memories started coming back to you. You remember that the next time you had seen Wonpil was at choir, two years after the wedding.

 

“Mom, mom!” you excitedly called, running to her as she waited for you outside.

She scooped you up as a hello, and then put you back down again. “How was your first day at choir, sweetie?”

“Mom, you wouldn’t believe it! There’s this boy in choir, and he has the prettiest voice in the world!” You swung from her arms, seesawing from foot to foot. “Even the teacher says so!”

“Really? That sounds really cool!” your mom said, taking your hand and walking to the car. At that moment, from the corner of your eye, you saw another kid reunite with his mother at the opposite end of the car park. You pointed at him. “Mom! There he is!”

She looked in the direction you were pointing and seemed a little taken aback. “That’s him?”

You nodded. She turned back to you. “Honey, that’s Wonpil. Do you remember him from your aunt’s wedding a couple years ago?”

You shook your head. “No.” Then you smiled. “But he’s really super cool, Mom! I’m going to marry him one day!”

She stared at you, gaping. Then she laughed and brought you to the car.

 

Your eyes grow, and you shiver despite being half-wrapped in your sheets, gobsmacked. You felt like you were _finally_ totally awake – everything was coming back to you in perfect clarity.

It had been ages since you last saw Wonpil – a full five years, and that was back in fourth grade. You realize now that you had forgotten so much since then. In fact, you had forgotten that you had met Wonpil _twice_ before. And yet both times, you had still thought the same thing about him. Your palms begin to sweat, and your heart twists.

Your phone rings and you answer, still distraught, “Yeah?”

“[Y/N]! You never told me Sungjin was this _awesome_!”

It takes you a while to recognize who you’re talking to. “B-Brian? W-What do you mean?”

“Dude, he’s just amazing! Did you know that he’s the captain of the baseball team? And that he wants to take up psychology in the future? And – _get this_ – he loves food just as much as I do!!!”

“What?”

“Well, maybe he loves food _almost_ as much as I do – I have to be realistic.” Brian said off-handedly.

You hold your head. It’s still too early in the morning for this. “Brian, slow down, I don’t understand what’s going on.”

“Oh, I messaged Sungjin last night after you and I talked, since you said he might need help in economics. I figured it would be a good chance to see if he’s any good for you.” You could just imagine his smug face. You frown. “And guess what? He checks out! You better get with him, [Y/N]! I NEED TO HANG OUT WITH THIS MAN MORE.”

Your forehead crinkles. Brian muses blissfully, “He owes me a cross-country motorbike ride, [Y/N]. You better make that happen.”

“Brian, I–” What were you going to say? That he should forget his cross-country aspirations and be with you instead? Before you could even make up your mind, Brian says, “Alright, I should prep to go to school–”

“Wait!” you cry out before he can hang up. Maybe a little too loudly.

Brian pauses. “Yeah?”

“Brian… what you said last time… about feelings still lingering…”

“I didn’t say that, [Y/N], Sungjin did.”

“Yeah, but like… do you believe it? All jokes aside.”

“Are you asking me if I think Sungjin still likes you?”

“Well… I think I’m asking you how long you think feelings last…”

You’re scared. There are a hundred currents storming inside of you. There is still so little you understand about what you feel, and about what the future holds.

You had said that you wanted to marry Wonpil – twice. And everything about Sungjin was a question mark. You had still been so young in the case of Wonpil, and hardly even a teenager in Sungjin’s case. Your mother’s words and Jae’s rang through your head – what mattered was what you felt now. And right now, you knew your heart belonged to Brian. And you were so sure of it.

But your younger self had been so sure of Wonpil as well. And Sungjin had once been so sure of you.

What did being sure of what you felt even mean?

“That’s really not a simple question, [Y/N],” Brian murmurs.

You sigh. “Yeah, I know.”

“… What do you think?”

Your stomach churns when the question is turned to you. You croak, “I… really don’t know.”

“Well… I hope we both find out, then.”

A small crack of a grin finds itself on your face. “Yeah, I hope we both do.”

“Have a good day at school, [Y/N]. Call me when you get home, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

You stare at your phone. You know how much Brian means to you. But if these feelings fade… is what you feel real at all?

 

Wonpil is drawing in his notebook again when you take your seat beside him. He looks up to greet you, “Hi!”

You nod back. “Hi.”

He smiles at you, then continues to doodle in his notebook. Class begins, and you sit there, silently being tortured by being beside him. He must remember the wedding. It was the only way he would have played that song for you yesterday. And you guessed it must mean that he wanted you to remember. But what did that imply?

Could you pretend that you didn’t know what he was talking about? You could just sweep it all under the rug and focus on Brian.

But no. You couldn’t lie to yourself that you didn’t know, that you hadn’t remembered. And you couldn’t just throw that realization out of the window until you had answered the other question it brought to the forefront.

_Did you still feel the same way you used to?_

You glance at Wonpil, who was buried in his notebook, his brown hair almost falling over his pencil as he made quick strokes unto the paper.

You were a kid back then. This was ages ago.

Wonpil’s face is full of concentration, and you can see his eyes squint and his lips purse, evolving with the lines in his notebook that you can’t see.

What does a seven-year-old know? What does a ten-year-old know?

Wonpil pauses. He tilts his head, moving back to get a fuller view of his work. He glances up, noticing you looking at him. You snap your head away. _Oh, gosh, that was so embarrassing,_ you think.

“Do you want to see what I drew?” He whispers, so that Mr. Ellis doesn’t hear.

“Uh yeah, sure.”

He opens his notebook wider then spins it to face you. Your eyebrow furrows in confusion at the sight of the drawing, and for a moment you forget the sea of questions swirling in your mind. “Deer antlers?”

He shakes his head. “There was this article I read before, about cave paintings.” He taps the image. “This was one of them. Do you know what it is?”

You shake your head.

“It’s the oldest known drawing of the human heart.” He smiles and sets the notebook back down, admiring his work. “And isn’t that what art is all about? Letting people see the human heart?” He turns to face you. “I love the image so much because I feel like it shows that we’ve always believed that since the beginning of time.”

You know it now. Your fifteen-year-old self now knows what your seven-year-old and ten-year-old selves did.

Wonpil was special.

Oh, God, what were you supposed to do?


	23. CHAPTER 23

Suddenly embarrassed after explaining the image, he cocoons. “Sorry, I don’t think I’m making any sense.”

“No, no! I get it,” you insist.

He smiles at you. After a moment, he murmurs, “Do you remember that there was one other thing I wanted to tell you?”

“…Yeah?” You get a little anxious. What was he going to say?

“Well… there’s something I want to do,” he admits, a little self-consciously.

“What is it?”

“The reason why I made this drawing is because I want to turn it into a sticker.” He looks at you timidly. “I found a store downtown that makes stickers. And… I kind of don’t want to go to it alone.”

“O-Oh,” you say, a little self-consciously. You know where this conversation is going. Oh no.

“Yeah. So… are you free later today?”

“Uh…” You were supposed to call Brian. Running errands with the boy of your seven-year-old self’s dreams was nowhere in the plan. Confusing yourself further was _the last thing_ on your agenda.

“Please? I hardly know anyone else in this town, and Dowoon has drum practice.”

You stare at him – innocent, pleading eyes and all. He coaxes you on, “Come on, I’ll owe you a favor after.”

You can’t say no. “C-Can I think about it first?”

“Yeah, sure,” he says. “Just let me know. But um…”

“Yeah?”

“Please don’t tell anyone about this. I feel like… they’re going to laugh.”

“Oh, Wonpil–”

“That’s why I wanted to do this with you.” His gaze fell down. “You’ve never made me feel like I’m weird.”

Your heart aches. The bell rings. Wonpil stands up, putting away his notebook. “Just message me when you’ve made up your mind, okay?”

Wonpil goes on ahead. Before she can leave the room, you immediately grab Fiona. “I need to talk to you.”

Startled, she shuffles closer to you. “What’s up?”

As the two of you walk to your next class, you explain everything to her about Wonpil. At the end of it, you say, “I just want to know for sure if the feelings I had for Wonpil are gone. And if feelings like that fade, I want to know if the same applies to what I feel for Brian.”

Fiona frowns. “[Y/N], you’re overthinking this. You were a kid back then.”

You shake your head. “Well, I’m hardly anything more than a kid right _now._ What do I understand?”

“What do you mean? What are you so scared of?”

You take a deep breath. “Every time I came across Wonpil in the past, he left an impression on me. And… it’s not like he’s really _changed_ , Fiona. He’s still… I don’t know, he’s still Wonpil.”

“And?”

“He’s still lovely.”

Fiona sighs. “[Y/N], you’re hopeless.”

You continue, “It’s not the same as it is with Brian. I know I still like Brian. It feels different. But that’s also what scares me.” You shake your head. “ _I’m_ the one who changed, Fiona. Right now, it feels like maybe I’ve outgrown what I felt when I was a kid. And I can’t help but think, what if I outgrow what I feel for Brian, too?”

Fiona looks at you curiously. You reach for her hand, looking for comfort. “I’ve never felt for anyone what I feel for Brian. It’s so _real_ to me, Fiona. I… I don’t want this to be a phase.”

Her face softens, and she squeezes your hand in hers. “Time will tell, [Y/N]. But you should go with Wonpil tonight.”

You look at her, waiting for an explanation. You’ve finally reached your classroom for your next subject, and Fiona has to go on towards hers. Fiona goes on, “He trusts you. And this means a lot to him. He’s your friend – and overthinking comes secondary to that. Besides,” she shrugs, “this might be an opportunity to understand why he played that song to you. It might even help you understand your feelings better.” She smirks. “Sometimes you just have to jump into something if you really want to know the answer.”

You think about it a moment. “Alright, then. I’ll go.”

“Great!” Fiona chirps, then hugs you. “See you!”

 

During lunch, you and Wonpil had agreed to meet after class, before heading out downtown together. After chemistry, you said goodbye to Dowoon and messaged Wonpil.

 

🌱: _Hey! I’m done for the day. Where are you?_

Wonpil: _Hi! I’m just going to pass the debate club paperwork to Mr. Ellis. I’m on my way to the teachers’ office. Can I meet you there?_

🌱: _Wow, you actually finished it?_ 😳 _Alright, I’m on my way there._

Wonpil: _Haha, yeah. See you!_

🌱: _See you!_

You and Wonpil arrive at the teachers’ office almost simultaneously. When you step into the room, you find Mr. Ellis at his desk, readying to leave. Wonpil approaches him, “Hi Mr. Ellis! We just wanted to turn in the paper work for the debate club.”

“Oh, hi! Your timing is perfect!” Mr. Ellis waves you two in and turns his laptop towards you. You crowd over the open email. “This just came in today. It’s an invitation for a debate competition. Usually, we would just ignore these kinds of things, but we actually have a debate club now!”

Wonpil marvels, “Wow, this is so exciting!”

Mr. Ellis goes on, “The top team will win a trip to Iceland!”

You raise an eyebrow. “Iceland?”

“Yep! All expenses paid!” Mr. Ellis beams.

Wonpil is jittery with excitement. “This is wonderful! Jae would love to hear about this! Our first official competition!!! When is it?”

“Two months from now.”

“And when can we go to Iceland?”

Mr. Ellis shrugs. “I’m not sure. Perhaps during the Thanksgiving break?”

Wonpil sways, delighted. “I can’t wait to tell Jae about this!”

“I’ll forward the email to him right now. Hopefully you’ll be able to discuss it with him soon.” Mr. Ellis hits send. Then he turns to Wonpil. “Oh, what was it that you wanted from me when you came in?”

“Oh, I just wanted to submit these.” Wonpil says, handing over the paper work.

“Wow, you’re fast!” Mr. Ellis exclaims, taking the papers. At that moment, your phone and Wonpil’s ping. You both check them. It’s from an unknown number, but you can only assume it was a message from Jae.

 

_Meeting tomorrow after class. Don’t be late._


	24. CHAPTER 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just 'cause I'm on my Twitter hiatus doesn't mean I've totally abandoned writing.

When Jae was on something, he got unto it fast. Both of you reply in the affirmative, then excuse yourselves from Mr. Ellis. Then you started walking to downtown.

“Thanks for agreeing to come along, [Y/N],” Wonpil says as you make your way down the street. “I really appreciate it.”

“No problem, man,” You smile, even if your heart is beating. You were anxious about what would happen that afternoon, but you were telling yourself to calm down. You had a lot of questions, but none of that could be solved with thought experiments – most of which you knew would only make you panic further. You had to find out for yourself what Wonpil meant by the song. And you had to figure out what you felt about that.

After asking around for directions, you’re finally able to find the print shop. Wonpil approaches the counter and lays his notebook down on it. “Hi. I wanted to get some stickers made.”

The guy explained the process to Wonpil. He handed Wonpil some sticker paper options to choose from. “What do you think?”

You helped him choose. The two of you were huddled over the selection of sticker papers. The fibers on your clothes were _just_ brushing against each other. You tried to concentrate on the matte and gloss sheets in front of you.

You two decided on several sheets of matte sticker paper. “This is going to take a while,” the employee said as he evened out the ream of paper against the table. “Maybe you can come back in in thirty minutes.”

You and Wonpil decide to go to the nearest convenience store and buy some sandwiches. You walk to a nearby bridge and lean against the ledge overlooking the river. Wonpil bends forward, almost parallel to the river now. “God, I’m so excited to see how the stickers will turn out!”

“Hey, can I ask a question?”

“What?”

“Why do you want to turn this into a sticker?” The meaning behind it was beautiful, sure, but it was plain and simple. You weren’t sure how many people would buy custom stickers that they didn’t immediately recognize, either.

Wonpil turns a little more somber. “You know, this world can be pretty crazy and cruel. Everyone keeps demanding that we be this thing or that thing, and it’s exhausting.”

The statement wasn’t in the direction you were expecting. There’s a vulnerable seriousness in his words that you hadn’t ever heard from him before. “Life can be tough – things might not go our way, or accidents happen, or people hurt us. It’s easy to become numb,” he explains, “And even when we do art, if we’re numb, it’s all just mechanical.”

He pockets his hands and kicks a stone on the sidewalk. “I don’t want that to happen to me. I wanted to remind myself to feel. Always feel. And that’s what fuels the art I love.”

He looks up at the sky overhead. It was still blue, but the sun was beginning to color everything a rich yellow. “So I decided stickers would be nice. I could have them in my notebooks, on my laptop, on my headphones. I could have one on my bedside drawer, so that it would be the first thing I see when I wake up, and the last thing I see before I sleep.”

Wow. He really was something else. Your gaze falls to the ground. How could he be so comfortable with feeling? Emotions had always consumed you, and they swept you up even when you were struggling to keep hold. Wasn’t he scared?

“How do you do that?” your thoughts escape you.

“Do what?” He asks, blissfully unaware of how his words were things you couldn’t wrap your mind around.

“How do you live with your feelings without drowning in them?” You pout. You don’t like how you sound like an emo little kid who’s got too much drama going on.

Wonpil studies you quietly for a moment. You know that he’s just trying to think of what to say, but suddenly, you feel like you don’t want to be seen. You feel like shrinking.

Finally, he whispers, “Because you can’t live without them.” You glance at him askance. He’s watching you, tentatively. “It’s what makes life life. It’s… what makes us human.”

You try to hide a frown. Were you scared of being human? You just felt like you were so bad at it. Everyone else seemed to be taking life in stride. Yet here you were – completely lost about where your heart was leading to. The only thing you seemed to understand was that it just didn’t feel whole. It hadn’t been, since the summer.

Wonpil’s eyes on you speak of his concern. “Are you alright?”

You force a smile. “Let’s get the stickers now.”

Wonpil decides to follow your lead back to the print shop. You apologize to him in your head for blocking him. It’s not like you would have been able to explain, anyway. It was just a mess of whether what was felt in the past still lasted, or if what is felt now would continue to endure.

It was just one of those moments when you wondered why love faded.

The two of you go in and pick up the stickers. They’re beautiful. They’re cut small and dainty, just big enough to rest on your finger tips. Wonpil glows when he sees them. “This is fantastic! Thank you so much!”

The staff shrugs, but smiles. “Just doing my job, kid.”

You two take the stickers and the receipt and go. Evening has just descended, and the stars are beginning to peek out. You pass by an alleyway cast in the orange-yellow of the street light. There’s a radio on the window sill of one of the apartments. Wonpil slows to a pause.

You turn around and face him. “What is it?”

He doesn’t reply immediately. He turns to you, and there’s a gentle smile on his face. As you look back at him, you’re finally aware of the song.

“Oh…” Your mouth opens, but you’re not sure of what to say. It’s the same song from your dream. The one he played for you. The one you never got to dance with him to.

He chuckles shyly. He must have figured from the look on your face that you remembered everything. “I was hoping you’d remember.”

He began slowly stepping towards you, deeper into the circle of the street light. You shrugged, unable to say anything more with your dry mouth. You can almost hear your heart in your chest. “Do you still remember meeting me at the church gates?”

You nod.

“Do you still remember searching the crowd until we found each other?”

You nod again. He’s finally just a step in front of you. “I promised myself that I’d dance this song with you the next time I heard it when I was around you.” He offers you his hand. “So… may I have this dance?”

You bite your lip and nod one last time. You take his hand. He smiles and draws you in. The music plays.

 

_It's been awhile_

_I didn't know you'd be reaching out before I would_

_You're saying let's meet up_

_If time works out_

_How could I say no to that?_

_Half excitement_

_and half fear_

_I still miss you_

_And I don't want you_

_to notice that_

_You're still the same_

_Still got the beautiful smile_

_I smile, I smile_

_This could only be sometimes_

_That I get to see you_

_I have to, I smile_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics lifted from: https://lyricstranslate.com/en/i-smile-%EB%B0%98%EB%93%9C%EC%8B%9C-%EC%9B%83%EB%8A%94%EB%8B%A4-i-smile-%EB%B0%98%EB%93%9C%EC%8B%9C-%EC%9B%83%EB%8A%94%EB%8B%A4.html-0


	25. CHAPTER 25

The song slowed to its end, and an ad played. But Wonpil still held you to him, your hand clasped in his, your chin against his shoulder. Almost inaudibly, he whispers, “Can I tell you something?”

Your heart is beating so loud. _What is he going to say?_ And yet you’re scared to death to know. You bend your head forward, hardly able to open your mouth. “Mm.”

“I want to say this because I’ve been thinking about this since I first saw you again, on the first day of classes,” he begins. You’re almost shivering in anticipation.

“When I was a kid, I said I’d marry you.” God, so he _did_ remember. You’re panicking despite being frozen in place. Then he continues, “I understand a little better now what I meant by that.”

So… what did he mean? Your mind seemed to be racing your heart.

“I still like you. And I still think I’d like to see you in a wedding dress one day.”

You blush, red as a cherry. What… what did he mean by that?! You’re fifteen. _Fifteen._ This conversation can’t actually be happening.

He goes on, “But… I don’t know if I want to be the one waiting at the end of the aisle. At least, not yet. I mean… I don’t think love is as simple as the first time someone ever makes your world light up.”

You feel like you might crumble to your knees – but from relief. You aren’t able to control the breath of air you let out. He steps away enough so that you’re face to face, but your eyes just can’t seem to meet his.

“Even if I cherished you, life came and went. We both did our own growing up. And I forgot about you too, you know?” he confesses. “But when you came back, I remembered everything about the first time I met you, and when we were in choir together.” He smirks. “You’re a little different now. I know you’ve got your own stuff going on.”

You bow your head, suddenly embarrassed. So he could tell. “But… even if you’re not exactly the way you used to be…” he tilts his head when he looks at you, “I guess you are my first love.”

Your head jerks up to stare at him with huge, surprised eyes. He continues, a little shyly now, “And even if I don’t know if I’ll marry you one day, you’re always going to be special.”

His hand on yours leaves. You glance down. On your ring finger is the sticker of the heart he had drawn.

You blush and throw your arms around him, wrapping him in a sudden embrace. “Thank you, Wonpil. You’re always going to be special, too.”

 

Walking under the light of one street light to another felt like passing from one world to another, with your twin shadows changing form under the two of you. It felt like a waking dream, and, at least for now, even if neither of you knew for sure what the future held, you felt like you could be content with half an answer. Things change. But that didn’t mean that the things that were truly precious suddenly became ugly, or worthless, or meaningless.

In a way, even if you wanted different things now, Wonpil still remained what he had always been – lovely. That didn’t have to stop being true. And the feelings that resided in your heart currently – the ones that sparked and bloomed when you were with Brian – wouldn’t stop being true. Even if the world changes, even if people change, a beautiful feeling would still be what it once was – beautiful. And, walking beside the first boy to ignite your imagination, this night was full of that feeling.

What lay ahead was unknown and unpredictable; and if, perhaps, all this became a memory and was replaced by something else… what you felt would still be worth treasuring. You realized, _so this must be what gratitude feels like._

 

Just seconds after you enter your bedroom, your phone starts ringing. It’s a video call from Brian. You remember that he had asked to call as soon as you got home. You’re excited to talk to him, especially now that you are more confident about your feelings. “Hey, did you just get home now?” he questions as soon as you pick up. “I was starting to get worried. I thought you’d call earlier.”

You giggle. “Hello to you too, Dad.”

He timidly apologizes. “Sorry. What were doing out late?” Then his face turns smug. “Were you out with Sungjiiiin?”

This again? You grunt. “No. I was with Wonpil.”

He pauses a moment, then asks, “Wonpil?”

“C’mon man, you remember Wonpil. The guy from choir? The one I’ve been eating lunch with along with Dowoon and Fiona?”

His lips curl mischievously again. “Ohhh, so it’s Wonpil now.”

You roll your eyes. He was testing your good mood. Seriously, what could get more ironic than the guy you like teasing you with literally every other guy in the world? “Brian, come onnnn.”

He giggles. “Alright, alright. So what did you guys do?”

You blush. He catches it. “Are you… turning red?”

“Uh…”

He turns hysterical. “Oh my gosh, [Y/N]! What did you two do??? Why am I being left out of this??? What is happening? Are you two an item now?”

“Oh my God, Brian please–“

“DID YOU TWO KISS?”

“BRIAN, STOP!” you snap, overwhelmed and embarrassed. He recoils, biting his mouth closed before another word can leave it. You sigh. “Can you just… not?”

He lowers his phone to his lap, a little more somber now. You frown. “I’m sorry. I just don’t understand why you keep on teasing me with people.”

He purses his lips and exhales. After a moment, he says, “I don’t know, [Y/N]… I just want to make sure there’s someone who’ll be there to take care of you.”

Your chest tightens. _So that was it._ “Hey… I’ll be fine. You don’t need to worry about me like that.”

He looks you straight in the eye. “But I do worry.”

Your heart skips a beat. He immediately changes tone. “I mean, what’s going to happen to you if there’s no one to pick up after you every day?” He clicks his tongue and shakes his head.

You make a face. “Excuse you, _I_ was the one picking up after _you_!”

His face turns smug again. “Yeah, it was kinda fun getting away with everything and having someone else deal with it.”

“Hoho, if all the adults weren’t in love with me back in Toronto, you would have gotten a life sentence in detention!” you counter.

The two of you keep bantering, even while you start working on homework and he puts away his laundry. After a couple hours, his mom knocks on his door telling him to go to sleep. But even after you two said goodbye, you’re still wide awake in your bed, wondering about what he said.

He was worried about you, that’s where the teasing came from. He was always watching out for you – that’s what you loved about him. You knew it was just part of what made Brian who he was, but… somehow this felt a little different this time. You just weren’t sure how. You only knew that maybe you wouldn’t hate the teasing as much anymore.

 

The next day, in homeroom, Wonpil arrived after you. He scuttled to your seat and said, “Ask me what’s in my bag.”

“What’s in your bag?” you inquired, playing along.

Immediately, he practically emptied his bag in front of you. Out of it fell a wallet, a windbreaker, and his notebook, along with an assortment of other things. He had put the stickers on most of his things, and he glowed while he showed everything to you. You chuckled to yourself. He was adorable.

When he finished showing everything to you, he smiled. “Thank you again for joining me last night, [Y/N]. It really means a lot.”

Your grin at him softly. “Honestly, I should be thanking you, Wonpil. You have no idea how much your words last night had an impact on me.”

He shrugs sheepishly. “We should hangout more, then!”

You nod. “Yeah, we should!”

You and Wonpil understood that you meant a lot to each other. He was adorable, and you were fond of him. He was part of the magic of your childhood, and you were the same to him. It didn’t have to be more complicated than that. That made you happy.

 

At chemistry, while the teacher was lecturing, Dowoon tapped your arm. When you turned to him, he handed a note to you. You opened it and read, _Are you going to the debate club meeting later?_

You wrote back, _Yeah. You’re going too, right?_

He replied. _Yup. Do you have plans after?_

_Nope._

_Want to go to the arcade with me?_

_Yeah, sure! Let’s invite the others as well!_

When he read your reply, he folded up the note and nodded at you. Then he continued taking notes. He was writing a little harder than he had been earlier.

 

You and Dowoon climbed up to the top floor of the school to attend the debate club meeting. Wonpil and Sungjin were already at the door. “Hey guys!” you greet.

“Hey!” They both say. “The door is locked.”

At that moment, Jae arrives. He’s got a package under his arm. “Good afternoon.” He breezes past you all and unlocks the door. “I apologize for the smell,” he says. “I had a paint job done yesterday.”

The door swings open, and reveals that Jae had finally organized everything to be sparkling clean and orderly. The floors were shiny, and the wooden table and chairs had been varnished. The scattered files that had been there previously were archived away, and the old books in the shelf were replaced by modern references. There was even a water dispenser on top of a mini fridge and an inkjet printer by a widescreen desktop. But what caught your attention the most was the color of the walls. It was a creamy beige that seemed to make the sunlight coming in the open window richer. The sheer white curtains wafted gently as the wind came in. You grinned to yourself. He really had made this room his.

Jae puts the package down, picks up some documents, and immediately gives out instructions. “Wonpil, please take minutes of the meeting. [Y/N], could you help me with this?”

As you step away from the others, you murmur, “He seems to be in a good mood.”

Sungjin grunts, “Still as bossy as ever, though.”

You help him distribute the handouts. He sits on the edge of the table and lifts up one of the documents. “Yesterday I received an email for a debate competition from Mr. Ellis. It’s being held by the embassy of Iceland, as part of a diplomatic program. The topics will mostly be about the environment and management of natural resources. The format of the debate will be British Parliamentary style…”

Jae began rapidly explaining each point, going over the important parts of his copy on the table, underlining and encircling the key parts in view of everyone. You were amused. It was kind of funny how mechanically he operated.

After explaining the mechanics of the competition and some necessary logistics, he asked, “Is there anything that’s unclear?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a question,” Sungjin volunteered. “How are we going to compete when we have no experience in this whatsoever?”

He shakes his head. “That’s not a problem.” He steps towards the package that he had brought in earlier. He opens it, and inside are several boxes. “I had to pick this up from the teacher’s office before I came here.” You and Jae start distributing the boxes to the others. Jae continues, “We’ll be using these to train from now on.”

When you each open your boxes, you find a debate manual, a couple CD resources, a notebook, and pamphlets that contained summarized tips and instructions for training exercises. “I handpicked these from several debate support sites online. I think they’re most suited to our purposes.”

Wonpil looked around the room and at the materials in front of him, stunned. “You were able to prepare all this since Monday?”

Jae smirked. “I’ve been planning and coordinating for all this since I got the idea for a debate club.” He shrugged. “Ordering materials for four more people was a surprise though.”

You watch him curiously. He had anticipated literally everything for this club _except_ club members. That didn’t make sense. Jae goes on, “Now, we have to train for this competition. Let’s have practice sessions every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.”

“But… we have music club on Mondays,” Wonpil pointed out.

“And there’s a chance we’d have to practice for music club on other days, too, especially once we have to perform,” you add.

Jae’s eyebrow furrows. “Then we’ll have the sessions after music club.”

You all frown and look at each other. He was asking for a lot of time. Jae doesn’t seem to notice. He starts putting away the papers. “Dismissed. I’ll see you on Friday.”

Sungjin seems pissed, and the rest of you awkwardly start packing away your things. To deflate the atmosphere, you announce, “Hey, Dowoon and I are thinking of going to the arcade. Does anyone else want to go?”

Wonpil and Sungjin say yes. Wonpil turns to Jae. “You should join us!”

“I have other plans,” he curtly replies. He settles down in front of the desktop and boots it up. “Go ahead and enjoy.”

"Suit yourself," Sungjin says nonchalantly, and heads for the door, the other two behind him. You stay a little longer to ask, “So what will you be doing?”

“I’m going to come up with training program for the four of you,” he said, already beginning to click around and type. You watch him a moment. You observe, “You really want to win this competition, don’t you?”

He pauses and glances down. He admits, “I do,” then starts clacking away at the keyboard again. You smile. “Do your best, Jae.”

He looks up at you. The corner of his lip pulls up just a bit, and he nods. You wave at him and start heading out, “See you! Don’t overwork yourself!”

“See you,” he replies, catching your eyes from over the desktop screen. You join the others outside and make your way to the school's exit.


	26. CHAPTER 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arcaaaade

“Yeah, I think I can make it,” Fiona informs you at the other end of the phone, just as you, Dowoon, Wonpil and Sungjin step into the arcade. On the way there, you had called her to let her know where you were all headed. The arcade is overwhelmingly loud, and there aren’t too many people around because it’s a school day, which is perfect because that means you don’t have to wait long for lines. You’re jittery with excitement. “Oh wow, they’ve added so many new games here since the last time I came!”

“YES, THEY HAVE, AND I’VE BEEN DYING TO PLAY FOR AGES!” Fiona agrees. “Don’t go into the photobooth without me. I’ll be there in 20 minutes.”

You chuckle. “Alright, see you.”

You end the call, but before you could even put away your phone, a text message comes in. You check, thinking it’s Brian. When you see who it’s from, however, you freeze.

 

_Hey. How are your first few days at school so far?_

 

It was your dad.

You hadn’t really spoken since the incident. You weren’t sure what he was doing, suddenly deciding to be a father, after estranging himself from you and your mother and then altogether deciding to screw the family. Or rather, screw someone outside of it. You close the notification and pocket your phone, trying your best not to throw it against the floor.

You could feel the anger hiking up your throat again, and making your chin tremble. You bite your lip to make it stop. Suddenly you didn’t feel like being where were anymore.

Discreetly, Sungjin stands a little closer to you. “Hey, is everything alright with Fiona?” He inquires in soft tones.

You try not to exhale too loud and you shrug. “Oh, she’ll be here in 20 minutes.” You don’t want him to know. You don’t want to even think about it. You tilt your head toward the counter and wave him over. “Let’s just play.”

The arcade lets you either pay per game or get an unlimited card for a higher fee. With all the cool games in the arcade, an unlimited card would have been the ideal purchase. Still, it was over your budget and you didn’t quite feel as excited as you were when you had stepped in. “I probably only have enough for a couple games,” you say.

Sungjin studies you a moment, then asks, “Do you want an unlimited card?”

You smirk. “ _Of course_ I want one. But the the question is, can I afford one?”

Sungjin tilts his head. “Well, I can afford two.”

You blink at him. Was he offering to treat you? Before you can even reply, Dowoon immediately joins in. “I can pay for two as well!”

You wave both your hands nervously, “Ah, no, I couldn’t ask you guys to pay for me, that would be too much.” Besides, your mood was currently a mix of hot and cold, and you didn’t want them to pay for something that wouldn’t be fully maximized.

While you’re having this conversation, Wonpil is going through his bag. He seems a little worried. He looks up hesitantly and announces, “Uh, guys? I think I might just watch you play.”

“What do you mean?” Sungjin inquires.

“I just realized I left my wallet on my desk at home,” he admits sheepishly. “I took it out of my bag and forgot to put it back in.”

Ah. He must’ve put a sticker on it and forgot to return it to his bag. You chuckled. That sounded like something he would do. Sungjin frowned. “Come on dude, we can’t have that. I can pay for your arcade card as well.”

Wonpil pouts. “Really? Are you sure? I can pay you back tomorrow.”

Sungjin shakes his head. “Nah dude, this one’s on me.”

He starts walking to the counter, and Dowoon jogs up beside him. “How about you pay for Wonpil and I pay for [Y/N]? It would be cheaper for you that way.”

You place both of your hands on their shoulders. “Guys, really, don’t worry about it. I’m fine with just a couple games.”

Sungjin scoffs, smiling at you. “Excuse you. I know you want to play everything here. Besides,” he grimaces, “after all the work I just found out I have to deal with now, I have to play off some steam.”

You frown. You know he was talking about how demanding Jae was being. Sungjin smirks, continuing, “As long as I beat you at Dancing King, I’ll be happy.”

You raise your eyebrows. It was the game you two used to play against each other every time you were in the arcade back in grade school. You smirk. “Is that a challenge?”

Sungjin shrugs. “It’s a warning for you to suck it up and not cry.”

You narrow your eyes, nodding. Bad mood or not, you weren’t going to let Sungjin get away with thinking he could dance. “We’ll see who’s crying after this.”

The two of you laugh and Dowoon leans forward on the counter. “Two unlimited cards, please.”

After he gets them, he hands one to you. You’re a little startled that he went ahead and got it for you, but you accept it from him anyway, albeit a little hesitantly. “Thank you. I’ll pay you back tomorrow.”

Dowoon shakes his head. “You helped me out a lot back in grade school.” He’s standing over you, and it strikes you more how much taller he’s gotten. “Let me repay that.”

Your eyes widen. He continues, lowering his voice and leaning in just a little, “I want you to have fun right now. Okay?”

 A small smile cracks on your lips. You nod, pulling in the card towards yourself. “Okay.” For now. At least, for now.

“So what do you want to do first?” Dowoon asks, pulling back, while Sungjin pays for himself and Wonpil. You’re scanning the room, trying to distract yourself with all the flashing lights and electronic buzzing. “I don’t know,” you say, maybe just a little bit excited. You felt impatient. Have fun, he said. You just wanted to dive straight into fun and forget about everything else. “Catch me and let’s find out.”

His eyebrow goes up and you chortle, starting to bolt through the arcade. He chases after you, and at least, for a moment, it’s like he’s chasing all the bad thoughts away, too.

 

The games fly by quickly, and Fiona soon joins you. The five of you are overcome with laughter, jumping from game to game and cheering each other on loudly as if you’re the only ones in the arcade. You and Fiona beat Sungjin and Wonpil at air hockey, but Sungjin manages to freestyle his way back to a restored ego on Dancing King. That man could really throw himself into a rhythm, and it surprises you how much wilder he had gotten on the dancing pad. He breaks and grooves like he had no intentions of stopping. You almost feel like telling him to slow down. But no, you wouldn’t. It makes you smile too much to see him like that. Perhaps he wasn’t the most talented dancer out there, but his whole body moved in a way that made the whole place feel like a party. You lose, but who would mind losing to a show like that?

Sungjin challenges Dowoon to a car race, and when the two of them step into the driver seats, it’s almost like they had turned into different people. Sungjin settles in like he had been born driving, and Dowoon grips the wheel like youngblood with a fresh passion for the streets. The countdown hits zero, and both of them floor the pedals. You, Wonpil, and Fiona root for the two of them as they zoom past a digitized Busan underground. Engines roar and rubber on asphalt screech, and the racing game machine shakes with an intensity that rumbles the floor and climbs up your feet and knees. Sungjin drives with reliable assurance, and Dowoon drives with a little more reckless daring. For most of the race, Dowoon’s quick handling at sharp turns and sudden lane changes gets him ahead. But then, just seconds before the finish line, Sungjin jumps a ramp that launches his deep purple coupe into the air, flying over Dowoon’s fiery orange spyder. He lands just before the finish line and zips through, pulling into a drift to finish with flair. As the screen flashes the proclamation of his victory, Sungjin leans back and smirks, satisfied. You and the others can’t contain your applause, thoroughly impressed with Sungjin’s driving skills. Dowoon smirks as well and offers Sungjin his hand. “Good game.”

They shake, and Dowoon adds, “Now let’s play Fite Nite.”

Sungjin agrees and all of you move towards the fighting game. Sungjin and Dowoon cozy into the player seats and stretch before grasping the controls. Sungjin chooses a scar faced boxer and Dowoon selects a karate girl. As soon as the game tells them to go, they lose no time going for the kill. Buttons are smashed and joysticks yanked at, and their characters defy gravity with their attacks and power moves. There’s a lot of high-pitched battle cries and anguished grunts, and the screen frazzles with all the impact animation. The energy bars rise and fall, and the health points edge into the red zone. Sungjin and Dowoon are completely absorbed, eyes glued to the glowing screen and sweat dripping down their foreheads. Sungjin mostly remains stalwart where he is and plays a lot more reactively. Dowoon, on the other hand, plays both offensively and defensively, and makes excellent use of the space in the arena to charge, dodge, and reposition. He plays flexibly and with clever strategy, and easily makes quick work of three rounds. The boxer lunges in for a final attack, but the karate girl squats down for a roundhouse kick, sweeping the boxer off his feet. The boxer falls, bouncing across the floor, officially knocked out after the referee count. The game declares Dowoon the winner, and you, Fiona, and Wonpil erupt in cheers for him. He was _really_ good at fighting games. Dowoon beams, pleased with himself. Sungjin chuckles and pats Dowoon’s back. “Congratulations, man.”

Dowoon just shrugs, but you know he’s happy. Fiona then invites, “Guys, let’s all take a picture in the photo booth!”

Everyone starts scrambling for the photobooth, but there’s a sudden tug at your heart, causing you to pause. You watch the others as they run to the booth. You were having fun but… it also felt incomplete. You were making a new memory with everyone. But Brian wasn’t around to share in it.

 _Oh,_ you say to yourself, _so this is what it’s like to feel yourself growing apart._ Distance was one thing, but to feel yourself taking root somewhere else, for the direction of your life to be branching away from Brian… it was scary. And you could feel your heart tearing. You had wanted him to be a constant. You imagined suffering high school together and exploring the world together in college. You imagined sorting through adulthood together and, and… you don’t know. All you knew was that not having him in the equation ruined all the answers you thought you had.

Dowoon slows down and turns around, noticing that you’re lagging behind. He approaches you. “Hey, you okay?”

You shrug. “No big deal, just thinking.”

“Are you sure?”

You laugh it off. “Yeaaaah, don’t worry about it.”

He touches your arm. “Do you still want to take a picture with the others?”

You couldn’t say no, right? “Yeah, of course.”

He doesn’t look like he believes you, but he gently puts his arm around your shoulders. “Alright, then let’s go.”

The two of you make your way to the photo booth, and you can’t help but be hyper aware of his solid form so close to you. His arm around you, shepherding you forward, feels like a protective shelter. The tearing in your heart feels like it’s being held together for a moment.

You two step into the cramped photobooth and you all make funny faces and coordinate poses. There’s one where you’re all looking at Dowoon and he just looks lost, and another where Sungjin is trying to bear hug all of you, and another where the boys are bowing to you and Fiona. There’s another one where you all have big, toothy smiles, like Wonpil minions. You’re all making fun of each other and joking around. You feel out of breath, and it’s not just because of all the laughter.

Your heart is a mess of emotions. It was simultaneously crumbling and overflowing. It was both grappling to reach out and struggling to keep vaulted. You wanted nothing to do with your dad and you wanted to hold on to Brian. And then there were your friends – who were amazing, and yet you were scared of them replacing Brian. Why couldn’t you just go back to Toronto? Why did your father have to screw everything up? Why couldn’t you just be happy like a normal person?

As everyone starts to exit the booth, suddenly a hand grabs yours. You turn and see Dowoon. Soon it’s just the two of you in the photobooth. “Dowoon?”

“Something’s on your mind,” he stated frankly.

You chuckle, but it comes out sounding like a deflated hum. Your gaze drops. The inner conflict was spilling out more than you could control.

“[Y/N], what’s wrong?” he asks, concern in his voice.

“We should go, the others will be looking for us,” you say, suddenly conscious that the others would be wondering where you two were. From the way he’s looking at you, you know he knows you’re avoiding the truth.

“You know you can trust me, right?” Dowoon says. You pout. He goes on. “I’ve always trusted you. And you can do the same with me. Lean on me if you need to. You know that, right?”

You look up at him, and you’re scared that if you open your mouth, your voice might crack. Suddenly Fiona pokes her head in the booth. “Guys? What are you doing?”

Dowoon is still looking at you when he replies to her, “Music club. We’re performing together for the vocal auditions. We were just talking about it.”

Your eyes peel open wide. What?

Fiona raises an eyebrow and her cat-like grin spills on her face again. “Oooookay then!”

She jerks out of the booth, and you and Dowoon are alone again. You manage to speak without stumbling on your words. “What did you just say? I don’t understand.”

He nods. “Mr. JYP said that _all_ of us have to prepare a song for Monday to sing. And you know I don’t sing.”

“Yeah, but–“

“I’m not singing without you, [Y/N].”

You blush. “I-I…”

He looks down and makes little circles on the floor with his foot. “See? I’m asking another favor from you again. So let me do something for you in exchange. Share your burdens with me.”

Your lip trembles and you bend forward, resting your forehead on his chest. God, he was such a good friend. You grab unto the sleeve of his jacket, trying to gather yourself enough to speak. “Okay,” you whisper. “But later. Please?”

You were scared of not making sense, and you knew that it wasn’t something that could be explained in an instant. And you knew, you _knew_ once you spoke to _anyone_ about this, you’d start crying.

Not even Fiona knew everything. And there was so much you couldn’t tell Brian because it involved him.

But you also knew that at some point, you couldn’t keep running away from talking about this forever.

Dowoon puts his hand on your shoulder and distances you enough from him for him to see your face. “Of course. So,” he smiles, “let’s go?”

You manage to grin and take a deep breath, readying yourself to face the others again. “Let’s go.”


	27. CHAPTER 27

It was already evening, and you and the others decide to split up. You didn’t really talk about it, but Dowoon sticks by you as you walk away from the arcade. You can already imagine Fiona teasing you about that through chat later tonight.

You inhale and exhale, letting yourself unwind from all the excitement. You close your eyes and murmur, “Was it really obvious?”

It takes a while before he answers. “Maybe not, if you’re not looking too close.”

You sigh. “Dowoon, I think I’m going crazy,” you admit.

He shrugs. “I don’t think you’re crazy.”

You smirk. “You’re always so nice, Dowoon.”

He shrugs again. “So… what’s bothering you?”

“Can you give me time to work up to talking about it? There’s… a lot I need to process.”

He nods, but the way he looks at you bleeds of concern. You turn away. “Thanks.” The two of you walk along in silence for a while before you say, “I know you’re worried about me. I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t apologize,” he says softly.

You smile and nod. He really was such a kind person. “So… wanna talk about the song?”

He agrees and you spend the walk home talking with Dowoon about what to sing, and it’s nice that suddenly you have someone who’s willing to listen.

On Thursday, Dowoon just quietly stayed by your side, during lunch and in chemistry, and when he walked you home again. He wasn’t the type to talk much, and the two of you didn’t really chat with each other online when either of you got home. But somehow, in the way he quietly chewed on his sandwich by your side while you and Fiona talked, and the way he looked over your shoulder in chemistry to catch you before you made a mistake in the seatwork, and the way you never felt like you had to keep the conversation up when you two walked home, you felt comforted.

Of course, he had always done those things before. But after what he had said in the arcade, it was like something was a little different. Back in grade school, he had always just been there. You just took it as a fact of life. But now you realize just how wonderful it is to have someone who was always just comfortably, reliably _there._

Everything about his vibe either cheers you up or calms you down. Dowoon has this wonderfully receptive simplicity to him. You love Fiona, but you just couldn’t deal with her jumping to conclusions every five seconds right now. And even if you trust Brian with all your heart, the feelings you were dealing with involved him too much.

Dowoon, on the other hand, just stayed by your side. Patient, and understanding that you’d tell him in due time. He didn’t know everything, but he knew something was wrong, and it didn’t change how he treated you. You were only made more aware of the assuring warmth of his presence. You never realized how beautiful that was. You were really thankful for that.

           

On Friday, during lunch time, you, Dowoon, Wonpil and Fiona were all eating together. Out of the blue, you hear a voice shriek, “So then what is it?”

You turn your head to face the source. It’s Jasmine, a couple tables down, leaning towards Jae, eyes blazing. Jae nonchalantly replies, hardly glancing up from his food, “Don’t cause a scene, Jasmine.”

Jasmine audibly whines and lowers her voice, but by this time you’re intrigued and trying to parse their conversation from the murmurs that reach your table. “Never have time,” “I don’t know,” “Doing,” is all you can pick up, but the stress in Jasmine’s voice is telling. Jae looks up from his food and for a moment you make eye contact. You snap your head away, embarrassed, and spend the rest of lunch time trying to focus on Fiona’s commentary on The Rose’s lyrics.

             

At the debate meeting later that day, Jae seems to be back to his stone-cold self, if not colder. He runs through the agenda quickly, and there’s a subtle sharpness in his tone when he introduces you all to logical fallacies and tackles how to construct an argument. You’re worried Jasmine probably has something to do with it.

“Any questions?” Jae asks, after explaining the basics.

No one says anything. Jae then assigns each of you to make a short argumentative speech about a topic of your choice, which you will present at the next session. All the rest of you exchange looks. He was treating this like a legit class. Without missing a beat, he moves on to explaining how the British Parliamentary style works. “As I mentioned earlier, this debate style works in pairs–“

“Dibs on [Y/N],” Sungjin proclaims, not even letting Jae finish.

“What! Nooooo, I want to be partners with [Y/N]!” Wonpil whines.

Dowoon grabs your hand and shakes his head, marking his territory. You’re flustered. “Guys, guys,” you say, trying to calm them down.

Jae rolls his eyes. “Look, as much as possible, I’d like to organize pairs according to the dynamic the two of you have. I’d prefer it if you’ve worked together before.”

Wonpil and Sungjin then frown and sulk a little in their seats. Dowoon says, “[Y/N] and I are chemistry partners, and we’re currently working on something for music club. And we worked together all the time back when we were younger.”

Jae nods and jots it down in his notebook. “She’s all yours then.”

 _Just like that?_ you wonder to yourself. Dowoon seems quite happy about it, though. Jae continues, “That means Sungjin and Wonpil will be paired up with each other. That’s alright with you guys, right?”

“Yup!” Wonpil says, suddenly brightening up.

“Yeah, I guess that’s fine,” Sungjin sighs.

“What about you?” you ask Jae. He shakes his head. “Think of me as the team coach, and the sub in case someone can’t make it on the day of the competition.”

“Why don’t we just invite someone else to join, so we’re an even number? Recruitment is still ongoing, after all,” you recommend. Jae would want to do some _actual_ debating, right?

“Yeah! We can invite Jasmine!” Wonpil suggests.

“We’re not doing that,” Jae spits, startling you all. He breathes out, “I’m not ordering anymore materials, and if we don’t start training now, we’ll be behind schedule. She won’t be able to catch up.”

“She’d just be a session behind, man, how hard would it be to catch up?” Sungjin points out.

Jae narrows his eyes, smirking. “You wanna find out?” he asks in a teasing voice. Sungjin stares at him, confused. Jae continues seriously again, “Next week, after you present your short speeches and we give each other feedback, we’ll start preparing for mock debates. Dismissed.”

As everyone readies to go, Jae suddenly asks, “Oh, also, do you guys tell people that you’re in this club?”

Everyone shakes their head. Sungjin says, “Not exactly. But my coach knows.”

“My parents know,” Wonpil adds.

“I see. Just don’t tell anyone that I’m also part of this club, alright?”

You all look at him weirdly. He doesn’t explain, just walks to his desk and starts arranging papers. Sungjin shrugs. “Alright, man, whatever. I’m out!”

Sungjin exits, and you, Dowoon, and Wonpil are about to go too, but Jae calls you back. “[Y/N], can you help me go through some of these materials?”

The others leave the room, and you approach him. There are a bunch of newspaper clippings and highlighted printouts on his desk. “What are these?”

“The debate competition is about the environment, so I’m making summaries of international climate change agreements, and charts reflecting pollution statistics,” he says, as if it’s nothing. You stare at him, stunned. How was he doing all of this?! He looks up at you and notices your surprise. “You can’t make a good argument if you don’t have all the facts, you know.”

He approaches the shelf and starts returning some of the reference books to it. You stand by him. “Well, you’re right, of course, but don’t you think this is too much work?”

He raises an eyebrow. “No. I mean, what else would I be doing with my time?”

You stare at him quietly. That was probably the saddest thing you ever heard him say, and he wasn’t even aware of it. “Jae…” you venture, as he continues arranging the books, “do you have any hobbies?”

He pauses a moment, then begins, “I–”

“Jae?” a voice calls from the hallway. Jae’s eyes shoot open and he grabs you and hides behind the shelf. All of a sudden, the two of you are squeezed in the crevice between the shelf and the wall, just inches apart from each other. Your knees are between his, and he’s still holding your shoulder, pressing you against the other wall, making sure both of you are out of sight from the door. You open your mouth to say something, but he places a finger on your lips and turns, trying to watch the room.

The door, unlocked since the others left, opens. “Jae?” the voice calls again. It’s Jasmine.

Your heart is beating audibly. You didn’t understand why you two were hiding, but having Jae stand so close to you was making you panic. “Someone told me they saw you hanging around here. Are you around?”

When there’s no reply, she leaves the room. When you’re sure she’s gone, Jae drops his hold on you and exhales loudly. He had been holding his breath the whole time. You watch him compose himself.

“She’s the reason you don’t want anyone to find out about the debate club, isn’t she?” you say bluntly.

He smirks at you, knowing there’s no point in hiding it anymore. But he doesn’t reply, just walks over to his desk again. You follow him there as he clears out more papers. There’s a brown restaurant napkin that surfaces as he clears more of his stuff. It’s a poem in his handwriting, but it looks more hurried and sloppier, as if he grabbed the nearest thing he could write on and just poured everything out. He doesn’t look at you – just continues to busy himself with organizing all the papers – but you know he meant for you to see the poem.

 

_I hate me now_

_I hate myself for being like this_

_For feeling so comfortable_

_When I’m away from you_

_Hate me now_

_I wish you would figure it out_

_Don’t show me a smile_

_With those endlessly clear eyes_

_You tell me you love me_

_So brightly_

_I want to tell you, me too_

_When you look at me_

_So warmly_

_Do you know that it’s already over?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics from: https://lyricstranslate.com/en/how-can-i-say-%EC%96%B4%EB%96%BB%EA%B2%8C-%EB%A7%90%ED%95%B4-how-can-i-say.html


	28. CHAPTER 28

That poem spoke volumes. Suddenly it was like a part of the iceberg had shattered off and fallen away. You wonder if you should say something out loud. You watch him with a tentative gaze, but Jae says nothing.

“I know you don’t want to hurt her,” you remark softly.

“And yet, I do,” he responds, zipping up his bag. You frown. He sees this, and he stares at you.

“Now I understand why you helped me with Sungjin,” you whisper.

He casts his eyes down and whispers back, “Let’s go, [Y/N].”

As the two of you walk out of the room and towards the exit of the school, you worry about him. There was so little you understood about the situation.

You didn’t fully understand why he wanted to keep the debate club a secret from Jasmine. He knew that she had feelings for him. He didn’t feel the same way.

And he hated himself for wanting to be apart from her.

Jae bids you goodbye, and he walks in the opposite direction. You can’t help but follow him with your eyes.

He hated himself for being unfair to Jasmine.

He was running away from that.

Just like you had been running away from Sungjin.

 

At home, you sit at your desk, staring at your phone. Why do people keep running away?

 

You’re in the kitchen, helping your mom mix the batter. At that moment, the door bell rings. You check the clock on the wall. “Oh crap.” You had lost track of time.

You take off your apron and leave the kitchen, announcing to your mom, “That must be Dowoon!”

You arrive at the door, and Dowoon is there. He has a cajón under his arm, and a box of donuts in his other hand. “Hi. Is Auntie at home?”

“Yeah, she’s in the kitchen making cookies.”

“This is for the family,” he says, handing over the donuts. You grin at how thoughtful he is and you take the donuts to the living room. He follows you in, but first peeks into the kitchen. “Hi, Auntie!”

“Dowoon! You’ve grown so much taller!” Your mom comes over to him and hugs him. When she pulls away, she squeezes his cheeks. “Oh, and you’ve grown so handsome.”

He turns red and looks away shyly. You giggle from the living room table. Once your mother stops drowning him in questions and chitchat, Dowoon finally manages to make his way to you, clearly overwhelmed.

“You put up quite a good fight, man,” you praise him.

He groans, and you laugh. You bring out your notebook and flip to a free page. “Alright, so last time we talked, you said that you wanted to cover a song. I’ll play the guitar and you’ll play the cajón, and we’ll share the lyrics. Now, we said we’d come up with a list of songs to–“

Dowoon abruptly slides a music sheet to you. You study it a moment. “I’m Serious?”

He nods. You pull up your guitar and finger the chords. Instantaneously, Dowoon beats out the rhythm on the table. You purse your lip and nod. “This could work.”

For the next hour, you and Dowoon work on the song. It comes naturally. Usually, you had trouble putting something together. You take liberties in rearranging songs, and usually it takes you a while before you can come up with something that feels like its yours. But with Dowoon, everything just comes together.

It was just like when the two of you made up that song on the way to the ice cream parlor. That song just flowed out like it was meant to be. You had thought before that it was like you two were learning how to play together, even when you were apart. You wondered how that was possible.

There’s a simple sureness to his approach to music that keeps you anchored as you explore the song creatively. By the time your mother calls the two of you for cookies, you and Dowoon have already memorized your parts.

While the two of you take a break for snacks, you comment between cookie bites, “I can’t believe we finished practice that fast. You’re so easy to work with.”

He shrugs. “You’re great to work with too.”

You smile at him sunnily and pour more milk into his glass. He then takes the carton of milk and pours more milk into your glass, too. You grin. He didn’t do that before.

“Seriously though, it’s almost like as if we’ve been practicing our instruments together,” you remark.

Dowoon blushes and downs his milk. You glance at him curiously. “Did I say something?”

Dowoon shakes his head. “No, no, it’s nothing.”

You raise an eyebrow and smirk cheekily. “Oh?”

He angles his body away from you. You roll your eyes. “Oh, come on, Dowoon.”

“Don’t laugh.”

“I won’t laugh,” you promise.

“So I’ve seen your YouTube videos, right?”

“Mhmm.”

“I practice with them,” he confesses. “I try to match your beat and I’ve adjusted to your style. I just… missed you. It sort of made it feel like we were still hanging out.”

It’s your turn to blush. Suddenly it strikes you how selfish you had been.

During those two years you were away in Toronto, you had hardly interacted with Dowoon online. The two of you were never really in the habit of chatting with each other, and the most you did was exchange holiday greetings and birthday messages. He almost never posted anything online, other than cat videos. You knew more about what Hosun had for breakfast last year than anything about Dowoon’s life. Why hadn’t you reached out to him more?

“I’m… so sorry, Dowoon,” you stammer. “Man, we should have talked more.”

Dowoon shrugs. “It’s fine.”

You hold your head in your hands. “God, I feel so bad.”

Dowoon shakes his head. “No, don’t.”

“I should have asked you what you were doing–“

“[Y/N], I don’t care,” he states. “It matters more to me that you’re here right now.”

You frown. “God, you’re always so good to me.” Why hadn’t you realized that sooner? Why had you always taken him for granted?

You were just so used to him being there. He was lovable, but he was always so quiet and just in the background all the time. You quickly forgot about him when you moved to Toronto. But he thought of you. Just like when you two were in grade school, he followed you, now even when you were apart. But you hardly gave him a second thought.

Dowoon is loyal and sincere. In your mind, he’s still such a helpless baby. But now you are beginning to glimpse that he had grown up into the kind of person you could rely on. You really should start treating him more like a real friend, and not just someone you dote on.

You look at him. “I haven’t told you about the thing that was bothering me in the arcade yet.”

He shakes his head. You bite your lip. “Well, here goes.”


	29. CHAPTER 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the depths of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of the heavier chapters in the fic. Just fair warning.

You and Dowoon go to your room, so that your mother doesn’t hear. She knew everything, of course. But you knew you were going to cry. And you hated letting your mom see you cry. Especially not about this. You didn’t want her to feel worse about the situation than she already was.

You fish out your phone from your pocket and scroll to the text message you haven’t answered yet, then you hand it to him. You sit down on the floor of your bedroom and lean on the bed. Dowoon sits beside you. He seems confused by what he sees.

“Dad’s not here,” you explain. “He’s back in Toronto.” You breathe out, before finally saying, “My parents are divorced.”

Dowoon stares at you, dumbstruck. You can’t bear to look at him. “Things were going south for a while, but then… my dad cheated on my mom. And I saw it,” your voice cracks.

“[Y/N],” Dowoon says, alarm in his face.

“It was a Saturday. I had been writing a song in the music room at school, but then I got interrupted and had to wrap up early. I went home earlier than what I had told my parents. Mom was supposed to be out until late, running errands,” you say. Your lips were pulling downward, and suddenly speaking became effortful. “I got home and walked into the living room. There was a woman there. And my dad was with her.” The first tear rolls down. “I felt so dirty.”

You were so mad. The first tear is soon followed by an angry stream. “There was a smell in the air and clothes on the floor and all I could hear was heavy breathing. I ran out of the house. I wanted to gouge my eyes out. I wanted to rip my ears off. I wanted to choke. I felt something creeping under my skin and I wanted to tear it off!”

You’re shaking, all your emotion flushing out uncontrollably. “I thought he loved us. I thought I could trust it when he said he loved us. He lied. He lied, he lied, he lied!”  

You’ve let go of restraint and all the blame and hurt explode in your lungs and throat. “How could he do that? What was he thinking? Didn’t he care? Didn’t we matter?!”

In a moment, you’re wrapped in Dowoon’s arms. You sob in his embrace. “And what is he trying to do now? Did he think I wanted anything to do with him? Does he think I’d answer him, tell him I was _okay_ after everything he did to us? Does he think any kid would be able to merrily prance around and sing kumbaya as if nothing happened? As if everything’s okay? As if I’m not bleeding inside every time I’m alone with my thoughts?” You almost shout, “Does he understand that I can’t be happy because of him?”

You break down, crying. You were a quivering mass of pain and self-pity. You had cried like this in bed on countless midnights, while papers were signed, belongings were packed in boxes, and Brian worried over you on the phone. That wasn’t even a month ago; the wound had hardly closed, but that text from your father just tore it back open again.

You hated that you were like this. Why couldn’t you just suck it up? Or at least, not let it spill into everything else in your life?

Well, how could you stop it, really?

Everything changed, and it was because of what your father had done.

You were uprooted from a place you were just beginning to adjust to, and a future you were beginning to hope in. All the overwhelming relationships you had to navigate now, all the awkward conversations and questions about where your father was that you had to face politely, all the emotions fighting for salience inside of you… you had to struggle through all of that because of your father.

Screw it, you had been falling in love.

You were just beginning to understand what that felt like. You were just on the verge of glimpsing it.

And it was snatched away from you. Just like that, your hopes were shot down before they could even find wings. Your father wrecked what he had with your mother, and he stole what you had with Brian away along with it. Your father ruined love.

You could hardly forgive yourself for what happened with Sungjin because your actions made you see a bit of your father in your own unfairness towards Sungjin.

You doubted the strength of what you felt for Brian when Wonpil was around because your own father’s feelings had faded, and the object of his affections had changed.

And worst of all… even when you were happy, you weren’t. Every time you had something that made you feel warm, you remembered what you didn’t have. Every time you were having fun, you were scared for when it would end. You were so scared of opening up again – getting attached almost seemed to tear you apart. And yet you couldn’t help but want to be comforted. To be held.

To feel home again.

But where even was home? What home was there to go back to?

The tears stopped, but you still felt black inside. You felt like there was a block in your throat. You felt heavy, and you didn’t want to move.

Dowoon held you the whole time. He didn’t need to say anything. He just needed to be there.

Dowoon was always just there.

And you hated yourself, because you kept asking, _for how long?_


	30. CHAPTER 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DAY6 HAD A COMEBACK! STREAM TIME OF OUR LIFE RIGHT NOW! #Day6 #MGMAVOTE @day6official

Dowoon stayed, just quietly by your side, listening to your breathing, until you told him that his parents would be looking for him.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” he said as you pulled away and walked to your desk.

“Yeah.” What choice did you have other than to get over it? In front of the mirror, you started brushing your hair and tying it into a ponytail. You wanted to compose yourself. After a moment, he said, “I’m really sorry, [Y/N].”

You paused and stared back at him through the mirror’s reflection. You sighed. Dowoon went on, “If you ever need to talk to anyone about these things again, you can just tell me, okay?”

You nod. He stands, walks over to you, and hugs you from the back. His arms fall over your shoulders like water, but they’re secure, like a scarf. You’re scared his warmth might make you cry all over again. “I’m just here for you.”

“I know.”

He pats your head, stroking your ponytail, and then steps away, heading for the door. “I guess I’ll see myself out then.”

“Yeah. Sorry, Dowoon.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll check on you again tomorrow.”

You smile. He was so sweet. “Thanks, Dowoon.” You look over your shoulder to see him. “And I mean that for everything. You’re a better friend than I could ever hope for.”

He half smiles then looks away. He heads out, and when his footsteps have left, you only have your reflection in the mirror. You heave a sigh and fold your arms over your desk, burying your head in them.

 

Just like he said he would, Dowoon messages you in the morning. You two had hardly messaged in the past, but at least for Sunday morning, he keeps up the conversation. He sends you pictures of his pets, and a quick video of him practicing drums. He shows you things more than types messages. You’re amused. He was still quiet even when he was trying to be talkative.

At church, you’re hardly able to see Jae beyond praise and worship. He played just as soulfully, but this time, there was a mellowness to the upbeat songs, and a quiet pleading in the slower songs. You wondered if this was a carryover from the thing with Jasmine last Friday.

You had wanted to talk to him and ask him how he was, but Jasmine was around him again. She seemed a little more possessive of him than usual, with her arm locked around his. She was probably getting antsier about losing him. Now that you knew the situation a little better, your heart ached a bit for her. Did she not know? Or was she denying it?

What was it like to be in that kind of position?

You wondered what it must be like to be Jae. He had isolated himself from the rest of the world, so much to the point that he didn’t talk or act or think the way most kids your age did. It was like his whole world revolved around schedules and to-do lists. He even wanted space from the one close friend he seemed to have. And you didn’t even understand how he and Jasmine were so close, in the first place.

Or maybe he was just allowing her to be that close to him. Just tolerating it. Maybe he really was that cruel. Maybe he knew that. Maybe he hated himself for it.

But why would he allow her to be close to him? The question swirled in your mind just as much as Jasmine hovered around Jae. And why did he want to be alone so much in the first place?

 

Club hour rolled around on Monday, and you and Dowoon walked together to the music room. “You ready?” you ask as you walk. Your guitar was slung on your back. He had his cajón under his arm.

He inhales, swallows, and shrugs. That was obviously a no. You pat his shoulder. “Oh, come on, Dowoon, we did great last Saturday! And we did well during our lunch break practice too.”

“Easy for you to say. You sound like an angel.”

You roll your eyes. “Dowoon, you sound _fine_.”

He groans. You insist, “No, really! I like your voice!”

He purses his lips. “Do you really?”

“Hell, yeah.”

He tries to hide a smile. “Okay.”

You laugh. “Dowoon, you’re adorable.”

His ears turn red again. You giggle and open the door of the music room. Sungjin is tuning his white guitar, and Wonpil is setting up the keyboard in the corner. Bernard is pacing in the other side of the room, a piece of paper in his hands. His lips move while he murmurs melodies. Kevin is doing vocal drills, with Mystery Prez on speaker phone, coaching him. You catch a bit of the nervousness in the room.

“We’re going to be okay,” you say out loud, not entirely sure if you’re assuring Dowoon or yourself. A few moments later, Mr. JYP arrives, and after you greet him, he asks for volunteers. “Who wants to go first?”

Kevin immediately raises his hand, and he goes to the front of the classroom with his phone in his hand, Mystery Prez still on the other side of the line. “Ready?” Kevin says in a bubbly manner.

“Ready!” Mystery Prez cheers. She hits play, and a song plays loudly from the phone. The tune, entitled Spark, is upbeat and energetic, and Kevin dances while singing. His performance is lighthearted and cheerful, and somehow it eases the nerves in the room. Everyone claps, getting into the vibe of the song.

Mr. JYP congratulates Kevin for the job well done, and then calls for volunteers again. Bernard takes to the front of the room to perform Still. It’s a smooth yet rhythmic ballad set against a synth pop background. His notes are evocative yet effortless. He has a reserved way of performing, but it’s a languidness that adds gravitas to the song. Once more, everybody in the room applauds in awe, Mr. JYP himself included.

Wonpil goes up next. You’re excited to see what he has prepared, since you’ve pretty much been a fan of his vocals since choir. Once everything is in place, Wonpil sets his hands on the keyboard and scans the room before breaking into a toothy smile. When he sings, you can’t help but smile as well.

 

_Chocolate_

_I know I should stop_

_But I can’t stop thinking_

_I like you more and more_

_You’re sweeter the more I think about it_

_I know you are_

_More sweet than chocolate_

_Unconsciously, my gaze_

_Stops at your lips_

_Why do I know the taste of something I’ve never tried before_

 

The song is smooth but upbeat, perfectly jazzy and teasing, yet still saccharine. It suited his musicality and his playful personality so well. Even Mr. JYP finds himself grooving along. At the end of it, he muses, “I liked that. I swear I could have written that myself.”

The fanboy in Wonpil glimmers. He bows elatedly. “Thank you, thank you!”

Mr. JYP winks at him, and then turns to face the class again. “Who wants to go next?”

You peer at Dowoon. He doesn’t even look back at you – his eyes are glued to the floor, avoiding eye contact with Mr. JYP. He’s always been quite shy, so it looks like he wants to hold out until he has no other option but to perform. You reach out to squeeze his hand to assure him. “Hey, you’ll be great.”

He grunts nervously, but squeezes your hand back. “I hope so.”

 

Sungjin raises his hand. Mr. JYP nods at him, and Sungjin stands from his seat beside you and takes his guitar to the front of the classroom. His fingers clasp unto the neck of the guitar and he sweeps the pick out from between the frets. Then he plays.

 

_Every night when I close my eyes_

_I become more and more afraid_

_That I will not have a tomorrow_

_I live in this way_

_Feeling sorry that another day is gone_

_So that on the last day of my life_

_I am filled with smiles_

_Every day that is given to me is_

_Gonna be my best part_

 

His voice is stunning, and his words pierce you. They’re words that are stubborn about joy, about fullness, about life. Stubborn about life in the face of fear, in the face of things coming to an end. They were words that were adamant about seizing life by the horns and taking the best from it.

They were brave.

And there was something about those words that ignited something within you.

 

_There is not a single moment that is meaningless to me_

_Not knowing when the end is_

_This moment is the best part_

 

You wanted that. You wanted to live every day like that. You didn’t want to be held down by the heartbreaks of the past, or walled by the anxieties of the future. You wanted the whirlwind of your new life to calm and for the storm of your inner turmoil to cease. You wanted the assurance that the love in your heart would find its way home. You wanted to be free of the hollowness your father had left in you. _I just want to be happy._

Sungjin looks up for a moment, finishing the song, and he catches your eye. Mr. JYP compliments him, “Great work, Sungjin.”

He nods back politely, then turns back to look at you quizzically, perhaps perplexed to see you watching him with new hope perched in your gaze. Mr. JYP calls the last performers, a.k.a. you and Dowoon, up. Sungjin saunters back to his seat beside you.

As you stand, you decide something. You were going to take what life gave you, even if it was difficult, even if it was not what you expected, even if you didn’t understand, and you wouldn’t let it pass you by. You were going to grasp it until you had wrought it to mean something, even if it didn’t look that way at first glance. You weren’t sure what you would end up with, but you were hopeful.

As Sungjin takes his seat and you take your guitar, you say, “I learned something from you today.”

“E-Eh?” he stammers, not expecting you to say that. You grin, stepping away towards the front, “Meaning is rather to be made than found.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics from:
> 
> Chocolate - https://lyricskpop.net/lyrics/day6-chocolate-english-translation/
> 
> Best Part - https://lyricskpop.net/lyrics/day6-best-part-english-translation/


	31. CHAPTER 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO EVERYONE I AM BACK TO THE WORLD OF FAN FICTION!
> 
> I know it's been a loooong time (about two months?) since I last posted, and I apologize for the delay. I was booked practically every day since I last updated, and when I had free time again recently, I had to sort some things out with myself before getting back into momentum.
> 
> I tried to pack this one with a lot of treats (it's all according to the plot, don't worry) to make up for my absence. I don't know when I'll be able to write the chapter after this, but I am HOPING I can have it in by next week.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy!

You take a seat in front and Dowoon settles down on his cajón. “Dowoon and I decided to perform together. I hope you like this.”

You face Dowoon, nodding your head. He beats to a count, and you enter with some sweet guitar melodies. Your heads are bobbing, and you ease into the groove. You open with the vocals.

 

_Why why why_

_Do I stare at the ceiling every night_

_Because of you_

_I’m just burning up_

You turn to Dowoon and give him a smile of assurance. He breathes in and sings.

 

_I gave you so many hints_

_So you can notice_

_But you don’t_

_Why don’t you know?_

_I really only have you_

You ooh and sing second voice, giving Dowoon a gentle push to go along. He grins and you jump in with the chorus. Suddenly Dowoon joins in as you sing the line, “I can’t stop loving you.” You turn to him, pleasantly surprised by the spontaneous entrance. He carries on with the next verse, more confident this time. His eyes are on you when he sings.

_Should I just give up?_

_I thought about it with eyes wide open for several nights_

_I can’t, I can’t_

_Because of you_

_My eyes can’t go anywhere else_

_I try to start a conversation_

_To figure out how you feel_

_Trying to pass it off as a joke_

_But why don’t you know?_

_I’m only looking at you_

You giggle. This is going so smoothly. You’re proud of how well Dowoon’s doing. You’re _really_ jamming now, and your face and voice meld with the expressions of the song.

 

_In the end_

_I just made you listen to useless things_

_And I let you go with a smile_

_Why am I like this?_

Dowoon sings the last chorus, still looking at you the whole time. There’s a kind sparkle in his eyes, and it’s almost like he’s forgotten that you two were performing with other people around.

 

_Are you gonna keep acting ambiguous?_

_Just laugh it over?_

_Is this what_

_You’re gonna do every day?_

_Please do something_

_To my heart that is only growing_

There’s a mellow tenderness to his voice when he sings. And for a moment, you feel like there’s something in the weight of his gaze. The sound of the guitar and the cajón fall away, and for a moment it’s like all you can hear is Dowoon’s voice. You feel like there’s a truth there, a truth that you can’t yet seem to see the shape of. It’s like he was singing _more_ than just the lyrics. Then he nodded at you, snapping you out of your reverie to pay attention to the last lines. You tighten your grip on the guitar again, and, together, eyes on each other, you two croon the last lines.

 

_I can’t stop loving you_

_I can’t stop loving you_

_I can’t stop loving you_

 

The whole room erupts in applause, including Mr. JYP. He praises, “Wow! You two have excellent chemistry! I really felt that!”

You laugh, bowing, Dowoon doing the same alongside you. “Thank you, Mr. JYP!”

Mr. JYP smiles. “No, seriously, that really showed me what you were made of.” He tilts his head towards Dowoon. “And I like that you sang, even if you said you couldn’t last time. I like that kind of attitude.”

Dowoon bashfully looks down. “Th-thank you.”

As you and Dowoon return to your seats, Mr. JYP then claps his hands together, “Good work to all of you! I like what I saw today. Now, I’ve made a decision regarding the main vocalist.”

You all hold your breath in anticipation. Mr. JYP then announces, “All of you are going to sing!”

“… Eh?” the club members collectively ask.

“We need something unique if we’re going to win the music festival!”

“There’s a music festival?” Sungjin parrots, bewildered.

Mr. JYP nods. “There will _definitely_ be a music festival. Roughly two months from now.” He stretches his arms out. “I want this little town to come alive with music! This dreary place needs some excitement.”

“I love that!” Wonpil declares, automatically on board. “What will happen during the festival?”

“I’m going to invite some of my friends to perform, and maybe get some other music groups from around the area to do a quick set. But the _highlight,_ “ Mr. JYP stresses, “is going to be the music competition. People can enter solo or in a group, and they can cover a song or perform one of their own. I’m going to invite some of my friends to judge. Anyone will be allowed to join.”

Wonpil beams. “Even little kids? Even older people?”

“Absolutely anyone who has something to offer.” Mr. JYP winks. “Mystery Prez and I will take care of the logistics. The rest of you can work on what you’ll perform as a band.”

Kevin then says, “But, Mr. JYP, I’m more of a dancer than a band musician.”

“Would you prefer to work with us, then?” he offers.

Kevin shrugs. “I guess I could do that.”

The remaining five of you look amongst yourselves. Sungjin begins, “So… I guess it’s us.”

You shrug, then grin, “You really aren’t getting rid of me any time soon.”

A corner of his lips goes up, amused at the reference. Mr. JYP then claps his hands. “Alright, that’s it for today! Kevin, Mystery Prez and I will take care of administrative matters, and you kids just focus on your performance. You should start thinking about what song you’re going to do. Dismissed!”

As you sort your things, Dowoon bends over to you. “Hey.” You glance up at him. He goes on, “You were great.”

You make a small smile. “You too, Dowoon.” You wondered if you should tell him that he had sung with a reflective cadence that seemed to make time stop. But before you had the chance to decide, he prompts, “We should go out.”

You stare at him, dumbfounded. Wha–?

“To celebrate,” he adds abruptly. “We should do something ‘cause that was awesome.”

You breathe and nod, understanding. He licks his lips, as if they were going dry, then says, “It’s the last week of the summer fair at the park. Wanna go with me?”

“Yeah, let’s tell–“

“Actually, I was hoping it could just be you and me,” he cuts you off. You blink at him, and both of you blush. He bows his head. “I-If that’s alright with you.”

“I-I don’t see why it wouldn’t be,” you stammer and force a smile that you hope makes things less awkward. “I mean, friends can just hangout when they want to, right?”

He grunts and smirks. He doesn’t meet your eyes when he says, “So… can we go–“

Suddenly your phone rings like crazy. You yank it out of your pocket and excuse yourself from Dowoon. Brian is trying to video call you. You pick up. A loud cheer explodes from the phone speakers. “WHOOOOOO!!! BEST PERFORMANCE EVEEEEER!!!”

You chuckle. “Brian, I haven’t even told you what happened yet.”

He rolls his eyes, scoffing, “I don’t care, I already know you’re the best one there.”

You blush. “Brian, stop it.”

“Since when were _you_ so modest?” he giggles. “So how was it?”

“Well… Mr. JYP said he liked it,” you inform him meekly.

“Just _liked_ it? He wasn’t completely floored and gobsmacked? He isn’t your number one fan yet? That man doesn’t understand the talent he’s dealing with.” Brian clicked his tongue. “Where’s Dowoon? I can’t believe what you’re saying and I need a reliable source.”

“I’m here,” Dowoon jumped in, hovering over your shoulder, startling you. Brian grinned from ear to ear. “Hey Dowoon! You must be [Y/N]’s old friend. I’m Brian, [Y/N]’s manager.”

“He is _not_ ,” you sneer, getting the facts right for Dowoon.

Brian chuckles, “Alright, alright.” He looks at Dowoon. “I’m her best friend.” His smile softens. “I heard you were the one performing with her today. Honestly, I wish it could’ve been me. You saw just how amazing she was, right?”

You bite your lip, and you feel all the butterflies in you spin around and flutter. He always talked about you to others as if you were the best thing in the world. You sure felt like it when you heard him speak like that.

Dowoon nods, “She was magnificent.”

You turn to face him. He had spoken with an unexpected soft solemnity that crept up your spine.

His gaze remains unflinchingly on your phone’s screen. You realize just how close his face is to yours, and you can smell his cologne. It reminds you of the ocean. You snap back to look at Brian and try to pay attention before getting too distracted. Brian nods and looks directly at you, almost as if you were in the same room. “See? Magnificent. You’re nothing short of it, ever.”

When he says things like that, it only made you ache for him more. Why couldn’t he be right here, in front of you?

“Anything else happen?” Brian goes on.

“Mr. JYP said that there’d be a music competition. It sounds like a pretty major thing. He’ll be calling in his friends from the industry to perform and judge.”

“That sounds really legit!”

“Yeah. And we’ll be joining.”

He pauses a moment, and you can see that the gears are turning in his head. He shifts in his seat. “When is it?”

“About two months from now?”

“Awesome, I’ll book my plane tickets.”

You snort. “Yeah, okay, you do that.”

“You don’t think I’m serious?” He raises an eyebrow.

“What?” Your befuddlement is all over your face. He _had_ to be joking.

“[Y/N], I’m going to watch you.” Brian declares, leaning forward with his phone in his hands, sliding his elbows forward to his knees and smirking.

You burst out laughing, incredulous, almost forcefully. _Stop it, heart, don’t hope._ “Brian, don’t be–”

“Stupid? It would be stupider if I missed out on something like this.” With the way he’s looking at you, you know he isn’t messing around. “The world is finally going to discover you, and I have all intentions to be there to see it when it happens.”

You stare at him, and your breath catches. Yeah, it wasn’t like it was forever since you last saw him. And yes, you two spoke practically every day. But that wasn’t enough to change the fact that you missed him. Everyday you missed him. When no one was stealing your grilled meat, you missed him. When you watched shows alone, you missed him. When you played songs on your guitar alone in your room, you missed him. He had made the biting cold of Toronto seem warm.

“But… won’t it be expensive?” you reason, still prepared to laugh it off if he took it back. This was being impulsive. But you wanted him to say he could make it work.

The expression on his face changes. He doesn’t look like he’s joking. There’s a sure determination in his gentle smile. “You’re worth it.”

You gulp and blurt out, “God, I wish I could hug you.”

He grins. Brian brings the phone into his chest, and the screen goes dark. You do the same, and you don’t even notice that your eyes have closed.

You almost felt like crying. You two would be reunited. Even for just a week or two. After all the swirling confusion you’d have to deal with… you finally had something to look forward to. He was going all that way, for your sake. Because he believed in you.

The audio crackles through the speakers, “I’m proud of you.”

You whisper, completely forgetting that you’re not the only two people around, “I’m inspired by you.”

Laughter breaks out from the other end. “Dang, we’re so cheesy, [Y/N].”

You roll your eyes and pull the phone back up to your face again. “You started it, you dramatic sap.”

Why did Brian always, _always_ have to ruin the mood? He snickers. “Yeah, but this dramatic sap has to end this call. I still have to run an errand. Call you again tonight?”

“Not unless I call you first,” you counter.

“Right. See you!”

“See you!”

Brian hangs up and you pocket your phone. Your arms wrap around yourself and you bring up your hand to cover your mouth. You could hardly believe it, much less contain your excitement. You were going to see Brian! _You were going to see Brian!!!_

“Bye, [Y/N],” a voice from behind you abruptly says, and a body brushes past you.

“D-Dowoon?” you call, confused, as he rushes out the door, slamming his backpack on. You had completely forgotten he was around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics from: https://lyricstranslate.com/en/im-serious-%EC%9E%A5%EB%82%9C-%EC%95%84%EB%8B%8C%EB%8D%B0-im-serious.html


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